ALLEGORIES 


By  the  same  Author. 

THE  BIBLE  :  its  Meaning  and  Supremacy. 
8vo.  15s. 

DAEKNESS  AND  DAWN  ;  or,  Scenes  in  the 
Days  of  Nero.  An  Historic  Tale.  Crown 
8vo.  7s.  6d. 

GATHERING  CLOUDS :  a  Tale  of  the  Days 
of  St.  Chrysostom.  Crown  Svo.  7s.  6d. 


LONGMANS,  GREEN,  &  CO.,  39  Paternoster  Eow,  London 
New  York  and  Bombay. 


ALLEGOBIE  S 


BY 


FEEDEEIC    W.  FAEEAE 

DEAN    OF    CANTERBURY 

AUTHOR  OF  'ERIC'  '  ST  WINIFRED'   'DARKNESS  AND  DAWN 
ETC. 


WITH    TWENTY-FIVE    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 
AMELIA    BAUERLE 


LONGMANS,     GEEEN,     AND     CO. 

39    PATEKNOSTER    KOW,     LONDON 
NEW   YOEK   AND    BOMBAY 

1898 


/It 


FILIOEUM    ET    PILIARUM 

TREDECIM    FILIOLIS 

D.  D. 
AVUS    AMANTISSIMUS 


313 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE   LIFE    STOEY  OF  ANEE  .  1 


THE    CHOICE  .  113 


THE    FOETUNES   OF   A   EOYAL   HOUSE        .  170 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAED  ,    235 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


ST.  TRYPHONIUS  AND  THE  BASILISK  (after  Carpaccio)        .     Frontispiece 


THE  LIFE   STORY  OF  ANER 

PAGE 

KING  ELYON  AND  PAEDARION       ......   to  face  4 

ALL  LIFE  WAS  AS  A  SUNLIT  HOLIDAY 11 

HE  LAID  HIS  HAND  ON  ANEK'S  SHOULDEK 31 

ANER  AND  PHAEDRA          .         . 59 

AKEDIA  GLIDED  FORTH 79 

ANER  RESCUES  PHAEDROS         .                 103 

TWO  BRIGHT  FORMS  MET  HIM 109 


THE   CHOICE 

THE  WISHING  WELL        .         .         . 

THE  FINGER  OF  THE  SPIRIT  TOUCHED  HIS  BREAST 

FESTUS  FELL  UPON  HIS  KNEES 

TRAVERSING  THE  DARK  SEA  . 


115 
131 
163 
167 


X  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  FORTUNES  OF  A   ROYAL   HOUSE 

PAGE 

DORESS  AND  INNOCENS 179 

INNOCENS  SAT  DOWN  BY  HIM  AND  TOOK  HIS  CHAINED  HAND         .     .     215 
THEY  FOUND  HIM  STILL  UPON  HIS  KNEES 231 

THE   BASILISK  AND    THE   LEOPARD 

ALCIPHRON  AND  FLOBIAN     . ^    .     .     247 

HE  BECAME  AWARE  THAT  THE  BASILISK  WAS  CLOSE  BY  HIM      .         .271 

HE  PLUCKED  THE  WATER-LlLY •     •     303 

'  IN  ELYON'S  NAME  I  BID  THEE  AVAUNT  ! ' 32y 

ARDENS  WEPT  BESIDE  THE  CORPSE  OF  HIS  ONLY  BROTHER  .         .     .     355 


ALLEGORIES 


IRE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER 


Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting ; 

The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  conaeth  from  afar. 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 
From  God,  who  is  our  home. — WORDSWORTH. 

Out  of  the  deep,  my  child,  out  of  the  deep, 
From  that  great  deep  before  our  world  begins, 
Whereon  the  Spirit  of  God  moves  as  He  will — 
Out  of  the  deep,  my  child,  out  of  the  deep, 
Down  yon  dark  sea  thou  comest,  darling  boy. 

TENNYSON. 

THE  KING  ELYON  was  the  greatest  of  all  kings.  Other 
lords  and  sovereigns  claimed  the  sway  over  wide 
domains ;  but  in  these  realms  they  were  in  reality 
his  vassals,  even  when  they  most  daringly  pretended 
to  avow  their  independence,  and  strove  in  open  rebellion 
to  thwart  his  high  designs. 

B 


2  ALLEGORIES 

There  were  many  points  in  the  government  of  this 
mighty  King  which  his  subjects  could  not  understand. 
It  was  impossible  for  them  to  comprehend  the  necessity 
for  royal  dealings  which  had  to  bear  on  the  interests 
of  regions  more  wide  by  far  than  those  of  the  little 
corners  of  his  kingdom  in  which  they  dwelt.  Just  as 
it  is  not  every  village  peasant  who  can  tell  why  the 
treaties  are  concluded,  or  the  laws  passed,  which  may 
seem  for  the  moment  to  injure  his  little  prosperity,  so 
there  were  millions  of  King  Elyon's  subjects  who  were 
sorely  perplexed  by  plans  which  he  in  his  wisdom  knew 
to  be  for  the  best.  Yet  the  vast  majority  of  his  subjects 
could  not  but  admit,  when  closely  questioned,  that  he 
was  wise  and  merciful  and  good,  and  that,  even  when 
his  dealings  with  them  seemed  to  be  severe,  he  pitied 
them  as  a  father  pities  the  sufferings  of  his  children. 

Now  King  Elyon  had  many  sons,  and  among  them 
was  one  who  was  specially  dear  to  him.  His  name 
was  Aner,  though  during  the  earliest  years  of  his  life  he 
was  not  called  Aner,  but  Paedarion.  Few  could  even 
guess  why  this  particular  son — who  was  not  only  the 
youngest  of  the  family,  but  also  among  the  least  richly 
endowed — should  be  so  specially  the  object  of  care  and 
love  to  this  great  King.  Others  of  his  children  were 
far  more  beautiful  and  strong,  and  looked  quite  radiant 
by  the  side  of  Aner.  Indeed,  there  were  some  bad 
sons  of  King  Elyon,  who  had  long  revolted  from 
their  father,  who,  from  the  first,  not  only  despised 
Aner  as  a  contemptible  weakling — which,  indeed,  in 
himself,  and  apart  from  Elyon's  love,  he  was — but  even 


THE   LIFE   STORY  OF  ANER  3 

regarded  him,  though  he  had  done  them  no  harm,  with 
burning  hatred.  Almost  from  his  birth  they  plotted 
against  him,  and,  under  disguise  of  flattery  and  false 
friendship,  endeavoured  to  ruin  or  degrade  him.  The 
name  of  the  worst  of  these  bad  revolted  sons  of  the 
great  King  was  Ashmod,  and  legions  of  evil  spirits 
owned  his  sway. 

But  the  very  frailty  of  Paedarion,  combined  with 
some  nameless  charm  which  clung  about  him,  inspired  a 
tender  and  sacred  interest  for  him  among  all  the  noblest 
and  most  glorious  princes  of  Elyon's  family.  They  took 
this  youngest  and  feeblest  of  their  brethren  under  their 
best  care ;  they  delighted  in  helping  him ;  they  were 
so  full  of  joy,  when  he  was  good  and  happy,  that  they 
made  their  father's  glorious  palace  ring  to  its  inmost 
depths  with  enraptured  jubilance ;  and  when  he 
showed  himself  unworthy,  and  his  lot  seemed  to 
tremble  in  the  balance,  and  it  became  even  doubtful 
whether  he  might  not  range  himself  on  the  side  of  the 
rebel  Ashmod,  they  took  off  the  garlands  of  rose  and 
amaranth  which  were  twined  about  their  sunny  locks, 
and  their  eyes  were  dim  with  '  such  tears  as  angels 
weep.' 

For  high  reasons  of  his  own  King  Elyon  did  not 
allow  Paedarion  to  be  nurtured  in  the  Imperial  palace 
where  he  himself  dwelt,  vast  as  were  its  dimensions 
and  inexhaustible  as  was  its  wealth.  Though  his  heart 
yearned  over  the  boy,  yet  for  his  own  high  purposes 
he  deemed  it  best  to  remove  him  from  his  im- 
mediate presence,  and  to  leave  him  to  fight  the  battle 

B  2 


4  ALLEGORIES 

of  life  away  from  his  proper  home,  amid  circumstances 
which  might  have  seemed  far  less  delightful  and  far 
more  full  of  peril  and  difficulty  than  those  which  were 
enjoyed  by  the  elder  and  more  richly  gifted  princes  of 
that  royal  house. 

To  these  high-born  brethren — who  never  questioned 
Elyon's  love  or  wisdom,  yet  would  fain  have  learnt 
something  of  his  purpose — the  great  King  only  said, 
'  My  sons,  if  you  could  see  all  things  as  well  as  I  do, 
you  would  know  the  reason  why  I  send  my  little 
Paedarion  away.  All  that  I  can  now  tell  you  is  that 
I  mean  it  for  his  highest  happiness.  You  know  that 
I  have  never  enforced  the  obedience  of  any  of  you. 
Your  faithfulness  would  be  nothing  to  me  if  it  did  not 
spring  from  your  own  free  will.  It  must  be  so  with 
this  my  youngest  born.  He  too,  if  he  so  wills  it,  must 
be  free  to  follow  in  the  desperate  steps  of  Ashmod. 
I  desire  to  train  him  for  the  cares  and  duties  of  his 
future  heritage.  I  must  send  him  away,  but  we  shall 
have  frequent  tidings  of  him ;  you  will  be  able  to  visit 
and  to  watch  him  without  his  knowledge,  and  I  shall 
constantly  have  him  under  my  own  eye,  even  when  he 
is  least  aware  of  it.  I  wish  to  train  him  so  that  he 
too  may  in  due  time  take  his  place  among  you  and  be 
welcomed  by  you  as  a  worthy  member  of  this  our 
kingdom.' 

So  King  Elyon  sent  for  Paedarion,  who,  though 
but  a  child,  was  very  dear  in  his  father's  eyes,  and 
exercised  a  strange  power  of  fascination  from  his  very 
weakness.  The  boy  came,  and  smiled  into  his  father's 


KING  ELTON  AND  PAEDARION 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANEE  5 

countenance,  and  the  King  clasped  him  to  his  heart 
and  said : 

'  My  child,  I  must  send  you  far  away  from  me  and 
from  this  your  true  home.  There  is  across  the 
sea  a  lovely  little  island  in  my  dominions,  known 
as  the  Purple  Island.  Its  inhabitants  are  called  the 
Porphyrians.  It  is  among  them  that  you  must  be 
educated.  My  care  will  be  over  you,  but  your  future 
must  depend  on  yourself.  I  have  had  some  rebellious 
sons,  and  Ashmod,  the  worst  of  them,  is  always  trying 
to  wean  from  me  the  affection  of  my  other  children. 
He  has  access  to  the  Purple  Island.  But  except  by 
your  own  fault  he  cannot  do  you  the  smallest  harm, 
and  if  you  keep  aloof  from  him,  and  from  his  emissaries, 
you  have  nothing  to  fear.  Will  you  be  always  true 
to  me,  my  little  son  ? ' l 

'  As  if  I  could  ever  be  untrue  to  so  good  a  father !  ' 
said  the  child,  looking  up  with  his  innocent  eyes. 

'  Ah,  my  boy,'  said  Ely  on  ;  '  you  are  only  putting 
on  your  armour  now,  and  you  will  have  to  fight  many 
a  perilous  battle  before  you  can  put  it  off.' 

*  But  you  will  bring  me  back  here,  father  ?  ' 

'  If  you  keep  the  rules  which  I  shall  give  you, 
Paedarion,'  said  the  King,  '  you  shall  come  back  and 
shall  be  as  royal  and  as  happy  as  these  your  bright-faced 
brethren.  But  if  you  disobey  me ' 

The  King  paused  and  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

1  The  Jews  thought  that  every  human  soul  before  its  birth  into  the 
world  was  taken  to  Sinai  to  hear  the  Commandments  and  learn  the 
difference  between  right  and  wrong. 


6  ALLEGORIES 

*  What  then,  my  father  ?  but  I  can  never  disobey 
you.  I  love  you  too  dearly.' 

'Whatever  happens,'  said  Elyon,  '  you  will  still  be 
the  son  of  my  love.  Even  if  you  go  astray,  IMEAH, 
the  supremest  of  my  sons,  he — my  other  self — will  do 
his  utmost  to  bring  you  back  to  me  and  save  you. 
But  the  Purple  Island  is  far  away,  my  child;  and 
there  you  may  forget  me.' 

At  these  words  the  child  wept  bitterly,  but  the 
King  kissed  away  his  tears  and  said : 

'Now  listen  to  me,  my  child,  before  I  bid  you 
farewell.  Your  future  happiness  can  only  be  secured 
by  following  my  instructions.' 

'  Perhaps  I  might  by  accident  forget  them,  father.' 

'Nay,'  said  the  King,  'I  have  had  them  carefully 
written  out  for  you  in  a  book,  which  you  must  always 
carry  with  you,  and  must  often  read.  Further,  I  put 
upon  your  finger  a  ring  in  which  is  set  a  deep  blue 
sapphire.  It  is  a  magic  ring.  If  you  disobey  my 
commands  this  sapphire  will  grow  paler  and  paler  ;  if 
you  persist  in  disobeying  them  it  will  gradually  lose 
all  its  colour. 

'But  further  than  this,  my  child,  there  are  two 
boys,  twins,  who — tfiough  as  yet  they  have  had  no  great 
concern  in  your  life — must  henceforth  be  your  constant 
companions.  Their  name  is  Yetser  ;  the  elder  is  called 
Hatob,  the  younger  Hara.  Lay  to  heart  what  I  now 
shall  say  to  you.' l 

1  These  boys  appear  to  have  Hebrew  names.     In  Hebrew,   Yetser 
means  '  Impulse  ; '  Hatob,  '  the  good ; '  Hara,  '  the  evil.' 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  7 

'  Father,  I  will.' 

'  On  your  relation  to  these  two  boys  your  future 
happiness  must  depend.  They  are  very  different  from 
each  other.  The  eldest,  Hatob,  is  everything  that  I 
could  desire.  Make  him  your  bosom  friend,  your 
guide,  your  leader,  your  example.  Put  your  hand  in 
his  wherever  you  go.  He  will  never  mislead  you, 
never  abuse  your  confidence.  You  must  regard  him 
as  your  teacher.  He  has  a  voice  which,  though  it 
sometimes  seems  to  sink  to  a  whisper,  will  always 
make  itself  heard  if  you  listen  to  it.  He  will  always 
be  near  you  unless  you  drive  him  away.  Listen  for 
the  voice  of  Hatob,  and,  if  he  warns  you  that  you  are 
going  wrong,  regard  his  words  as  though  they  were 
mine. 

'  His  twin  brother  Hara  is  as  different  from  Hatob 
as  possible.  If  you  listen  to  him,  he  will  lead  you 
into  misery  and  shame  such  as  you  can  hardly  con- 
ceive.' 

'  Oh,  father  !  then  why  do  you  send  this  bad  boy 
with  me  ?  '  asked  Paedarion  with  emotion. 

'  That  is  more  than  you  can  as  yet  understand,  my 
son,'  said  the  King ;  '  but  this  I  can  tell  you  :  Hara  is 
not  so  wholly  pernicious,  if  you  and  Hatob  together 
keep  him  in  complete  control,  and  instantly  drive  him 
with  anger  from  your  presence  whenever  he  suggests 
to  you  anything  which  you  know  to  be  against  my 
wishes.  Thus  treated,  Hara  can  do  you  no  harm,  but 
may  even  help  forward  the  purposes  of  your  education 
during  your  few  years  in  the  Purple  Island.' 


8  ALLEGORIES 

'  But  if  I  fail,  and  if  Hara  gets  too  strong  for  me  ?  ' 

'  My  child,  in  order  that  I  may  do  all  for  my  children 
that  can  be  done,  I  sent  my  own  IMEAH,  the  son  of 
my  glory,  to  live  and  die  for  them  in  that  far-off  Purple 
Island.  You  have  but  to  follow  his  example,  to  walk 
in  his  steps,  and  all  will  be  well.' 

'And  am  I  to  be  sent  quite  away  from  you,  my 
father  ?  ' 

'  It  depends,  my  child,  upon  yourself.' 

1  But  shall  I  never  see  you  when  I  am  at  the 
Purple  Island  ? ' 

'  You  will  not  see  me  with  your  bodily  eyes,  but 
my  spirit  will  be  with  you  unless  you  drive  him  away.' 

*  Then  you  will  not  leave  me  alone?  ' 

'No,'  said  the  great  King.  'But  now,  child  of 
my  love,  farewell.  The  day  will  come  when  I  shall 
summon  you  home  from  the  Purple  Island,  and  if  you 
have  been  my  faithful  son  you  will  then  be  with  me 
for  evermore.  I  am  sending  you  now  to  the  vessel 
which  will  bear  you  hence  across  the  sea.  You  will 
sleep  a  very  deep  sleep  to-night.  To-morrow  you 
will  awake  in  your  new  home.' 

Elyon  once  more  folded  his  son  to  his  breast  and 
kissed  him  with  a  kiss  which  seemed  to  bathe  his 
whole  being  in  infinite  bliss.  He  appeared  to  himself 
to  be  sinking  through  unfathomable  waves  of  slumber 
and  remembered  nothing  more. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER 


II 

How  easy  to  keep  free  from  sin  : 

How  hard  that  freedom  to  recall ! 
For  dreadful  truth  it  is  that  men 

Forget  the  heaven  from  which  they  fall. 

C.  PATMOKE. 

WHEN  Paedarion  woke  from  his  slumber,  rising  as 
though  from  the  depths  of  an  ocean  of  darkness  and 
oblivion,  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  conditions 
utterly  different  from  those  of  his  father's  palace.  His 
reminiscences  of  his  early  past  had  grown  most  dim 
and  dreamlike.  He  remembered  that  he  was  a  son  of 
King  Ely  on ;  he  remembered  that  certain  duties  were 
incumbent  on  him  ;  he  possessed  the  book  which  had 
been  given  him  ;  on  his  finger  gleamed  the  deep  azure 
of  the  sapphire  ring.  He  was  conscious,  and  was 
often  reminded  by  grave  and  elderly  persons  who  were 
the  careful  protectors  of  his  earlier  years  in  the  Purple 
Island,  that  there  were  around  him  many  fatal  tempta- 
tions which  he  must  avoid,  and  many  obligations 
which  at  all  costs  he  must  fulfil ;  and  that  issues 
vaster  and  more  far-reaching  than  he  could  imagine 
depended  on  his  resistance  to  the  one  and  his  devotion 
to  the  other. 

As  for  the  Purple  Island  he  was  at  first  enchanted 
with  it.  He  loved  the  green  and  purple  seas  which 
surrounded  it  with  their  bright  ebb  and  flow,  their 
murmur  and  their  foam.  He  was  never  tired  of  sitting 


10  ALLEGORIES 

or  playing  beside  those  musical  and  iridescent  waves. 
The  softly  verdant  meadows  sprinkled  with  their 
golden  flowers,  the  great  trees  with  their  waving 
boughs,  the  sun  in  the  blue  heavens  with  its  glories  of 
crimson  sunset  and  rosy  dawn,  the  strong  mountains, 
the  sweet  and  balmy  air,  the  yellow  wealth  of  harvests, 
the  crystal  of  the  running  streams,  the  stars  shedding 
their  spiritual  lustre  through  the  purple  twilight,  the 
innocent  mirth  and  laughter  of  young  voices — the 
glory,  and  the  wonder,  and  the  power,  and  dread 
magnificence  of  nature  delighted  him.  All  was  joyous, 
and  '  the  very  breeze  had  mirth  in  it.'  He  saw  nothing 
there,  as  yet,  of  hatred  or  crime,  or  sorrow  or  vileness. 
All  seemed  to  love  him  ;  all  were  kind  to  him ;  all  life 
was  as  a  sunlit  holiday  in  the  blossoming  springtide  of 
happy  days. 

But  while  he  looked  with  interest  on  the  many 
of  his  own  race  who  surrounded  him,  he  was  most 
specially  interested  in  the  two  boys — Yetser  Hara  and 
Yetser  Hatob.  They  were  of  his  own  age  and  were 
always  with  him.  He  was  quite  unable  to  recall 
exactly  what  King  Elyon  had  said  to  him  about  them, 
yet  the  essential  meaning  of  the  King's  words  seemed 
to  dawn  upon  his  soul  by  instinct.  They  were  also 
brought  back  to  his  memory  by  the  elders  who  guided 
his  first  years  in  the  island,  as  well  as  by  Hatob,  who 
at  every  favourable  opportunity  lovingly  tried  to  en- 
grave them  on  his  inmost  soul. 

No  two  boys  could  be  more  unlike  each  other  than 
these  two  Yetsers,  as  you  will  see  when  I  describe  them. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER 


11 


Hatob  was  a  dark-haired  lad  of  unusual  seriousness 
and  calm  sweetness  of  aspect.  His  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  shine  through  those  at  whom  he  gazed,  were  of 
heaven's  deepest  azure  ;  but  those  who  knew  him  well 
soon  learnt  that  they  could  sometimes  flash  with  terrible 
indignation.  The  look  of  sovereign  innocence  upon 


ALL    LIFE    WAS    AS    A    SUNLIT    HOLIDAY 


his  features  would  have  seemed  infinitely  attractive 
had  not  his  face  at  times  assumed  an  aspect  of  stern- 
ness which  seemed  to  burn  into  the  hearts  of  those 
who  defied  him.  But  he  had  a  heavenly  smile  for 
those  on  whom  he  looked  with  love  and  approval,  and 
this  smile  was  fairer  and  more  angelical  than  anything 


12  ALLEGORIES 

which  can  be  conceived.  And  though  his  voice,  when 
he  was  obliged  to  raise  it  in  just  anger,  had  in  it  a 
tone  as  of  Sinai's  thunder,  yet  it  was  ordinarily  most 
penetrating  and  musical.  Indeed  it  had  one  very 
peculiar  quality.  It  often  seemed  to  thrill  into  the 
ear  and  the  heart,  even  when  he  was  far  away.  Many 
of  the  Porphyrians  were  startled  by  it  as  if  he  had 
spoken  loud  and  clear ;  and  when  they  looked  round 
he  was  not  there. 

As  unlike  him  as  possible  was  his  twin  brother, 
Yetser  Hara.  There  were  some  who  represented  him 
as  being  in  himself,  and  of  his  own  unchangeable 
nature,  wholly,  absolutely,  and  irredeemably  bad ;  but 
they  were  mistaken.  There  were  indeed  within  him 
many  of  the  elements  of  the  fiend  Ashmod.  To  those 
who  watched  the  collapse  and  catastrophe  which  he 
constantly  caused  to  all  who  gave  themselves  up  to  his 
allurements,  he  might  well  seem  to  be  a  compound  of 
unmitigated  cruelty  and  wickedness.  It  was  not  so. 
He  was  the  most  ruinous  of  masters  over  those  who 
yielded  to  his  dominance,  the  most  fatal  of  guides  when 
he  was  left  undisturbed.  Yet  when  any  Porphyrian 
with  the  aid  of  Hatob  kept  Hara  in  such  subjection 
that  he  did  not  dare  to  transgress  their  bidding,  Hara 
was  then  capable  of  living  in  harmony  with  them  both, 
and,  as  a  slave  who  dared  not  transgress,  he  even  con- 
tributed to  the  completeness  of  the  life  which  kept  him 
bound  in  reverence  and  order. 

The  difficulty  was  that  this  control  was  rarely 
absolute.  People  were  apt  to  make  concessions  to  him, 


THE   LIFE   STORY  OF  ANEE  13 

especially  when  they  were  young,  which  made  him 
almost  impossible  to  manage.  If  you  gave  him  but  an 
inch  he  would  always  take  an  ell.  It  was  not  difficult 
to  keep  him  resolutely  in  his  proper  place  from  the 
first,  but  it  was  a  very  serious  task  to  dislodge  him 
from  any  post  which  he  had  once  been  permitted,  even 
for  a  moment,  to  usurp.  To  those  who  allowed  him 
the  smallest  semblance  of  familiarity  and  independent 
influence  he  became  in  a  very  short  time  the  most 
presumptuous  of  comrades,  and  finally  the  most  pitiless 
of  tyrants. 

The  reason  why  he  so  often  got  his  way  was  that, 
for  his  own  purposes,  he  could  make  himself  the  most 
winning,  caressing,  and  fascinating  of  companions. 
Nothing  could  exceed  the  soft  insinuation  of  his 
flatteries,  or  the  honeyed  seductiveness  of  his  induce- 
ments. And  then  he  well  knew  how  to  assume  an  air 
of  manly  boldness,  of  attractive  liberty,  which  enhanced 
his  evil  but  dazzling  beauty.  For,  ugly  as  was  his 
natural  countenance,  he  could  so  wreathe  it  in  smiles, 
could  fill  it  so  full  of  magic  brightness,  that  only  those 
who  were  earnestly  on  their  guard  could  find  it  in  their 
hearts  to  resist  his  Belial  blandishments.  And  then  he 
had  a  voice  which — in  place  of  its  naturally  harsh  and 
offensive  sound — which  was  something  between  a  bark 
and  a  hiss — could  melt  into  notes  so  bewitching  that, 
unless  his  hearers  resolutely  closed  their  ears,  they 
found  themselves  excited  into  sweet  madness,  and 
lapped  in  a  sensuous  Elysium. 

Many  found  to  their  cost  that  the  thrilling  songs  of 


14  ALLEGORIES 

Hara  were  like  those  of  the  sirens  which  lured  the 
victims  who  listened  to  them  to  shipwreck  and  death 
on  the  bare  rocks  of  bone-strewn  isles.  When  Hara 
raised  his  voice  to  charm  the  soul  of  Paedarion,  and 
the  boy  began,  almost  against  his  will,  to  listen  to  those 
songs,  the  only  way  to  rescue  him  was  for  Hatob  to  sing 
also.  Some  said  that  the  voice  of  Hatob  was  disagree- 
able in  comparison,  and  undeniably  the  tone  of  it  was  of  a 
sterner  and  more  Doric  manliness  than  Hara's  Lydian 
and  dulcet  tones ;  but  then  the  words  of  Hatob's  songs 
were  so  divinely  elevating  that  they  seemed  to  clothe 
themselves  in  angelic  melodies,  and  so  they  became 

Not  harsh  and  rugged  as  dull  fools  suppose, 
But  musical  as  is  Apollo's  lute, 
And  a  perpetual  feast  of  nectared  sweets, 
Where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns. 

Now  it  cannot  be  said  that  Paedarion,  the  son  of 
King  Elyon,  was  not  attracted  by  Hara.  He  was  very 
much  attracted  indeed,  and  all  the  more  so  because 
Hara  laid  himself  out  to  win  him,  to  indulge,  to  gratify, 
to  appeal  to  all  his  lowest  instincts,  to  fool  him 
to  the  top  of  his  bent.  Paedarion  did  not  at  all  like 
the  quiet  authority  which  Hatob  assumed  over  him, 
kind  as  it  always  was.  Often  when  Hatob  laid 
upon  him  some  disagreeable  injunction,  or  with  an 
accent  of  reproof  forbade  him  some  indulgence  to  which 
he  was  strongly  inclined — when  he  called  him  from  his 
glad  games  to  his  hard  studies,  rebuked  his  indolent 
selfishness,  or  warned  him  against  the  dubious  com- 
panions with  whom  Hara  tried  to  surround  him — the 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  15 

boy's  secret  inclination  to  rebel  was  always  fostered 
by  Hara.  Hara  gave  him  many  a  sly  look  and  secret 
nudge,  and  smiled  bewitchingly  in  his  face  as  though 
to  indicate  how  far  happier  he  would  be  if  he  would 
only  shake  off  the  influence  of  Hatob  and  join  Hara  in 
plunging  into  every  kind  of  gaiety  and  pleasure. 

It  was,  however,  chiefly  when  Hatob  was  absent, 
or  was  asleep,  or  was  not  well,  that  Hara  put  forth 
the  whole  force  of  his  seductions,  appealing  to  all 
Paedarion's  worst  self.  And  the  boy  soon  discovered 
that'  while  Hatob  might  counsel  and  reprove,  he  never 
could  and  never  would  coerce.  When  Hatob  found 
him  to  be  hopelessly  wilful  and  obstinate,  he  would 
say  to  him  :  '  Paedarion,  I  cannot  use  force  to  you.  I 
am  the  representative  of  your  father,  the  King.  You 
know  full  well  that  I  never  say  anything  which  does 
not  agree  with  the  rules  which  he  lays  down  and  the 
book  he  gave  you.  You  are  living  here,  as  IMEAH,  the 
glory  and  image  of  ELYON  himself,  once  lived  here,  and 
if  you  will  look  to  him,  and  think  of  him,  and  walk  as 
he  walked,  his  help  will  be  with  you,  and  his  spirit 
will  strengthen  you.  But  you  must  serve  him,  and 
listen  to  me,  of  your  own  free  will,  not  as  a  machine, 
and  you  must  yield  the  allegiance  of  a  son,  not  the 
mechanical  service  of  a  slave.  Tell  me,  have  you 
never  observed  that  the  sapphire  ring  which  your  father 
gave  you  is  by  no  means  of  so  bright  a  blue  as  it  ought 
to  be?' 

1  You  are  always  grumbling  at  me  and  abusing  me, 
Hatob,'  said  Paedarion  peevishly.  '  There  is  nothing 


16  ALLEGORIES 

the  matter  with  the  ring.  Perhaps  it  has  got  a  little 
dust  in  it,  and  it  is  not  so  bright  as  it  was  ;  but  look  !  it 
is  still  blue.  I  have  done  nothing  so  very  bad.  After 
all,  King  Elyon  gave  Hara  to  be  with  me  as  well  as 
you.  He  is  a  most  charming  friend  and  companion — 
I  cannot  help  liking  him.  He  is  all  smiles :  you  are 
all  frowns.  Soon  you  will  drive  me  quite  away  from 
you.' 

'  Paedarion,'  said  Hatob,  '  I  must  do  the  King's 
work.  It  is  my  duty.  If  you  try  to  love  me,  you  will 
find  that  I  am  worthy  of  your  love.  Let  not  my 
dangerous  brother  persuade  you  to  imagine  that  I  am 
not  your  best  friend,  or  that  I  ever  say  anything  which 
is  not  for  your  highest  good.' 

'  Hara  is  much  more  agreeable  and  attracti  ve  than 
you,'  said  Paedarion  rudely. 

' He  may  seem  so,'  answered  Hatob;  'but  Elyon 
did  not  send  you  to  the  Purple  Island  only  to  please 
yourself.  You  have  been  here  long  enough  already  to 
judge  whether  selfish  pleasure  is  as  noble,  or  even  as 
happy,  as  true  obedience.' 

But  Paedarion  turned  away  and  sought  the  com- 
pany of  Hara  more  and  more. 

At  first,  for  a  very  short  time,  the  alliance  which 
he  formed  with  the  bad  twin  seemed  to  him  like  a 
delirious  dream.  It  was  so  exhilarating  to  feel  himself 
free  to  follow  his  own  devices  and  to  walk  in  the  light 
of  his  own  heart,  to  be  unimpeded  by  wearisome 
checks  and  tiring  appeals,  and  to  indulge  his  lightest 
fancies  and  gratify  every  sense.  He  exulted,  too,  in 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  17 

the  society  of  the  gay,  dashing,  emancipated  com- 
panions to  whom  Hara  introduced  him.  '  Let  us,'  they 
said,  '  enjoy  the  good  things  that  now  are ;  and  let  us 
use  the  creation  with  all  our  soul  as  youth's  possession. 
Let  us  crown  ourselves  with  rosebuds  before  they  be 
withered,  and  let  no  flower  of  the  spring  pass  us  by : 
let  there  be  no  meadow  which  our  riot  doth  not  traverse. 
Let  us  leave  tokens  of  our  joyfulness  in  every  place, 
because  this  is  our  portion,  and  our  lot  is  this.' 

Yet  every  now  and  then  in  the  enchanting  cup, 
though  as  yet  he  had  only  begun  to  sip  it,  the  boy  felt 
a  drop  of  nauseating  bitterness ;  and  when  Hatob 
spoke  to  him  of  these  new  pleasures  which  once  would 
have  been  pains,  and  recalling  to  him  his  old  pure 
and  noble  ideals,  spoke  to  him  of  his  father,  and  of 
his  radiant  brethren  in  the  palace  whence  he  came, 
Paedarion  would  bow  his  head  and  put  his  hands  to 
his  face  to  hide  the  burning  blush  which  in  spite  of  all 
his  efforts  began  to  mantle  it  in  the  hue  of  shame. 

'  Tell  me,'  said  Hatob,  gently  laying  his  hand  on 
the  boy's  head,  'do  you  ever  think  now  of  Elyon, 
your  royal  father,  and  how  he  loved  you  ?  do  you  ever 
read  in  the  book  he  gave  you?  do  you  ever  look  to 
Imrah  for  help  ?  has  his  spirit  ceased  to  speak  to  you  ?  ' 

The  boy  made  no  answer. 

'  Do  you  not  think  that  you  would  be  growing  up 
nobler,  and  more  happy,  and  more  worthy  of  your  birth, 
if  you  shook  off  these  debased  companions  with  whom 
Hara  has  surrounded  you  ?  What  becomes  of  these  a 
few  years  hence?  Have  you  never  read,  have  you 

C 


18  ALLEGORIES 

never  witnessed  the  calamities  which  befall  them? 
Paedarion,  the  comedy  is  short,  but  the  tragedy  is  long. 
King  Elyon  has  heard  about  you  and  is  deeply  grieved. 
He  bears  with  you ;  but  "  when  Mercy  has  played  her 
part  in  vain,  then  at  last  Vengeance  leaps  upon  the 
stage ;  she  strikes  hard  strokes,  and  Pity  does  not 
interpose  to  break  the  blow." 

Paedarion's  head  was  bowed,  but  he  remained  still 
silent. 

1  Paedarion,'  said  Hatob,  '  have  you  ceased  to  love 
your  father  ? ' 

*  No/  said  Paedarion  submissively. 

'  Well,  then,, if  you  really  love  him,  you  will  try  to 
keep  his  commandments.' 

'But  sometimes  King  Elyon  seems  to  be  so  far 
away  from  me.' 

'It  is  the  greatest  of  errors,  Paedarion.  He  is 
always  near  those  of  his  children  who  seek  him  and 
love  him.' 

Such  interviews  with  Hatob  were  almost  invariably 
interrupted  by  Hara.  He  would  enter  with  a  cynical 
smile  upon  his  face,  and  when  Hatob  went  out,  which 
he  usually  did  at  once,  Hara  would  point  towards  him 
with  a  gesture  of  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder,  and 
scornfully  ask : 

'Well,  what  has  our  friend  Dull  been  saying  to 
you  ? '  or  '  Are  you  going  to  turn  saint  after  this 
sermon  ?  0  no,  my  dear  Paedarion,  you  are  too  far 
gone.  Don't  be  a  hypocrite  as  well.  Come,  let  us 
enjoy  ourselves  a  little  and  get  the  taste  of  that  lecture 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  19 

out  of  your  mouth.'  And  the  friends  and  associates 
with  whom  Hara  had  surrounded  his  victim  would 
look  at  each  other  with  meaning  •  smiles,  followed  by 
yet  more  assiduous  blandishments  than  before,  because 
they  desired  to  make  him  wholly  their  own. 

And  if  Hara  ever  had  reason  to  think  that  the  gay 
carelessness  of  Paedarion  had  been  more  than  usually 
disturbed  by  the  noble  presence  and  serious  words  of 
Hatob,  he  had  only  to  raise  his  voice  in  those  piercing 
strains  by  which  he  so  well  knew  how  to  fill  his  soul 
with  ravishment,  and  Paedarion  would  come  back  to 
him  as  a  bird  flutters  down  into  the  snare  at  the 
fowler's  call.  The  cunning  Hara.  when  left  uncon- 
trolled, always  asserted  a  strong  tyranny,  and  used  his 
mastery  to  produce  a  new  rebel  against  King  Elyon 
and  a  new  votary  of  the  evil  Ashmod.  He  knew  well 
that  the  oftener  and  the  more  readily  Paedarion 
listened  to  him,  the  more  helplessly  would  he  listen, 
till  passion  became  slavery,  and  wrong-doing — long 
after  it  had  lost  its  sweetness— would  retain  its 
sway.  Experience  had  taught  him  how  speedily  mis- 
feasance passes  into  habit,  and  habit  into  character, 
and  character  assuming  the  guise  of  unalterable  destiny 
becomes  as  a  prison  from  which  there  seems  to  be  no 
escape. 

And  so  indeed  it  was.  Paedarion  more  and  more 
forgot  all  that  was  good,  and  often  out  of  mere  familiarity 
continued  to  do  what  was  evil,  though  it  had  lost  its 
initial  attractiveness,  and  though  he  had  felt  its 
allurements  to  be  disappointing  from  the  first.  Yet 

c  2 


20  ALLEGORIES 

even  then  Hara  often  felt  that  in  the  youth's  nature 
there  was  something  intrinsically  noble;  that,  while 
he  held  Hara  by  the  hand,  he  still  was  siding  with 
Hatob  in  his  heart ;  and  that,  in  all  the  perversity 
of  his  wanderings,  he  remained  perfectly  conscious  of 
the  right  path.  He  felt,  therefore,  that  to  secure 
Paedarion  for  the  usurper  Ashrnod,  he  would  need  to 
put  the  whole  enginery  of  his  temptations  into  play. 


Ill 

So  soon  the  boy  a  youth,  the  youth  a  man, 
Eager  to  run  the  race  his  fathers  ran. — ROGERS. 

BY  this  time  Paedarion 's  years  of  education  in  the 
Purple  Island  had  passed  away,  and  he  assumed  the 
name  of  Aner.  Hara  had  won  over  him  a  too  easy 
victory,  but  did  not  feel  himself  secure  in  the  youth's 
allegiance.  He  flung  yet  more  rapturous  sweetness 
into  his  wild  songs,  and  the  burden  of  them  all  was 
that  Aner  should  rejoice  in  his  youth  ;  that  he  should 
not  waste  upon  serious  duties  the  sweet  season  of  bud 
and  bloom,  but  that — fine  young  fellow  as  he  was — he 
should  eat,  drink,  and  enjoy  himself,  for  Spring  would 
soon  pass,  and  the  rest  was  nothing.  A  favourite  song 
of  Hara's  was — 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a-flying ; 
A.nd  the  same  flower  which  blooms  to-day 

To-morrow  will  be  dying. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  21 

One  day  Hatob  heard  the  passionate  song  with  its 
sweet  entrancing  lilt,  in  which  Aner  joined.  *  Yes,'  he 
said,  '  Aner  ;  but  Hara  has  omitted  to  tell  you,  as  he 
always  does  omit,  that  before  his  roses  die  their  per- 
fume stupefies,  and  that  venomous  insects  are  bred  in 
their  soon-withered  leaves.' 

'  Stale  morality ! '  sneered  Hara,  as  Hatob  passed 
away. 

It  might  be  so ;  yet  he  felt  that  Aner  was  not 
uninfluenced  by  truths  which  were  so  true  that  he  had 
not  yet  the  courage  to  declare  them  false.  Hara  had 
been  bitterly  reproached  by  Ashmod  for  having  as  yet 
failed  to  make  Aner  his  open  votary.  He  felt  that  he 
must  bestir  himself. 

There  were  two  schemes  on  which  he  relied.  He 
would  occupy  the  whole  attention  of  Aner  in  things  not 
intrinsically  harmful,  but  which  might  be  developed 
into  harmfulness  by  excess.  If  he  could  get  him 
absorbed  in  these  things,  Aner  would  have  the  less 
time  to  think  of  any  others.  He  would  become  too 
busy  to  secure  his  deliverance  from  the  ways  of  the 
destroyer. 

And,  secondly,  he  would  leave  no  form  of  temptation 
untried,  until  he  discovered  the  weakest  and  most 
susceptible  side  of  Aner's  character  ;  or,  if  he  could  not 
entirely  enslave  him,  as  he  hoped  to  do,  by  a  single 
vice,  he  would  do  his  best  to  make  him  the  bondslave 
of  many. 

Now  Aner  was  singularly  gifted  with  bright  endow- 
ments. He  won  the  highest  admiration  from  the  other 


22  ALLEGORIES 

inhabitants  of  the  Purple  Island.  He  was  very  beauti- 
ful of  countenance,  tall  of  stature,  strong  of  limb,  swift 
of  foot.  His  voice,  while  he  was  yet  a  boy,  was  as 
the  voice  of  an  angel,  and  when  he  grew  to  manhood 
was  so  rich  and  mellow  that  it  delighted  every  society 
in  which  he  moved.  His  intellect  was  quick  and 
powerful;  he  easily  grasped  knowledge,  and  strongly 
retained  it.  His  wit  was  brilliant ;  his  eloquence 
remarkable ;  his  gaiety  contagious.  His  outward 
career,  therefore,  was  one  of  signal  prosperity.  He 
was  the  ideal  and  the  idol  of  the  youths,  his  com- 
panions ;  they  were  emulous  for  his  friendship ;  they 
intoxicated  him  with  the  incense  of  their  often 
unconscious  flattery.  As  a  boy  he  had  won  all  the 
laurels  he  possibly  could  win,  and  it  had  been  a  common 
prophecy  of  him  that  when  he  grew  up  he  might  attain 
to  almost  any  position  in  the  Purple  Island.  When 
he  became  a  youth  he  continued  a  career  of  unbroken 
distinction.  His  early  manhood  was  crowned  with 
successes.  Year  after  year  wealth  flowed  in  upon  him, 
and  ambition  was  stimulated  by  the  multiplication  of 
honours.  And  as  his  wealth  grew,  even  while  he  was 
still  a  young  man,  by  leaps  and  bounds,  so  did  his 
luxury  and  ostentation.  More  and  more  as  his  riches 
increased  he  set  his  heart  upon  them  ;  less  and  less  was 
he  honourably  scrupulous  in  the  means  of  their  acquisi- 
tion. He  early  grew  accustomed  to  lavish  his  resources 
upon  personal  gratifications,  and  he  looked  with  in- 
creasing callousness  on  the  miseries—  for  round  the 
Purple  Island  there  was  many  a  dim  isle  of  misery — 


THE    LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  23 

which  he  could  easily  have  alleviated.  It  seemed  only 
too  probable  that  he  would  degenerate  into  a  vulgar 
worshipper  of  money,  and  belie  all  the  hopeful  antici- 
pations which  had  been  formed  of  him.. 

But  Hatob  did  not  leave  him  unwarned.  One  day 
he  came  into  the  luxurious  room,  where  Aner,  now 
immersed  in  business,  was  at  work  with  his  young 
secretary.  He  had  been  dictating  replies  to  various 
pitiable  appeals  for  help.  He  had  given  the  same 
answer  to  all  of  them  except  one.  He  was  already  so 
rich  that,  without  even  the  semblance  or  shadow  of 
any  real  self-denial,  he  could  have  aided  every  wise 
agency  for  good,  every  deserving  case  of  sorrow  and 
penury.  He  could,  without  an  effort,  have  enabled 
many  a  blessed  institution  to  continue  its  work  of  mercy. 
But  his  stereotyped  answer  to  all  suggestions  for  an 
unselfish  and  beneficent  use  of  his  means  had  come  to 
be,  '  I  have  so  many  claims  that  I  cannot  afford  to 
help  you.'  The  sole  exception  which  he  had  made  was 
in  answer  to  the  request  of  a  very  great  man  who  asked 
aid  in  some  purely  fantastic  and  useless  design.  This 
was  granted  by  Aner  with  profuse  readiness.  The  great 
man's  favour  might  be  very  useful  to  him  in  his 
ambitious  schemes.  If  Aner  ever  felt  a  moment's 
hesitation  in  considering  a  case,  his  secretary,  who  had 
been  purposely  recommended  to  him  by  Hara,  was 
always  ready  with  the  cold  water  of  cynicism  to  quench 
any  spark  of  generous  impulse. 

Hatob  had  entered  so  silently  that  he  had  not  been 
noticed  ;  but  directly  the  secretary  had  gone  out  he  spoke. 


24  ALLEGORIES 

1  Aner,'  he  asked,  '  have  you  quite  forgotten  me  ?  ' 

'  No,'  was  the  short  and  sullen  answer,  as  Aner 
averted  his  gaze. 

Hatob,  not  stopping  to  notice  his  ungracious 
reception,  took  up  some  of  the  letters  lying  on  the 
table.  One  was  the  prospectus  of  an  imaginary  gold 
mine,  written  with  the  intention  of  luring  thousands 
to  buy  shares.  Aner  had  stated  the  promised  certainty 
of  large  profits  with  eloquent  plausibility.  He  had  been 
paid  for  his  advocacy  by  an  assignment  of  shares,  which, 
when  the  rush  of  purchasers  had  raised  them  to  fabulous 
value,  he  meant  to  sell,  leaving  many  a  deluded  victim 
to  suicide  and  ruin,  and  plunging  widows  and  orphans 
in  hopeless  penury  as  soon  as  the  bubble  burst. 

'  Are  you  not  utterly  ashamed,  Aner  ?  '  asked  Hatob 
in  his  grave  tones.  '  Are  you  not  rich  enough,  and 
more  than  rich  enough  already,  without  increasing  your 
gains  by  these  vile  means  ?  And  has  your  heart,  which 
was  once  generous,  already  grown  so  cold  that  you  are 
indifferent  to  the  tears  and  anguish  which  your  delusive 
words  will  cause  ?  You  fairly  astonish  me,  and  I  am 
utterly  ashamed  of  you.' 

1  Silence,  Hatob  !  '  thundered  Aner.  '  Do  you  dare 
to  insinuate  that  I  am  a  cheat?  I  feel  sure  that  there 
is  gold  in  this  mine  ;  I  merely  state  its  claims  as  they 
have  been  set  forth  to  me.' 

'  Lies,  Aner,  lies  ! '  was  the  brief  and  stern  answer. 
He  took  up  one  of  the  letters  after  another,  read  them 
with  an  expression  of  disgust,  and  then,  flinging  them 
down,  said  : 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  25 

1  Oh,  Aner,  you  are  farther  gone  than  I  had  feared. 
Still  but  young,  your  heart,  if  you  go  on  like  this,  will 
in  time  be  cold  as  ice,  and  hard  as  the  nether  mill- 
stone.' 

'  Another  word,'  cried  Aner,  '  and  I  will  drive  you 
out.' 

'  I  have  spoken,  Aner.  It  is  enough.  Farewell ; 
but  oh,  if  you  care  for  your  life,  and  would  be  saved  from 
destruction,  you  know  that  you  can  always  summon 
me  to  your  help.  And  before  I  go  I  tell  you  plainly 
that,  for  all  your  wealth,  your  life  is  rapidly  tending  to 
become  a  sordid  and  despicable  lie— a  lie  which  even 
many  who  are  themselves  bad  men  would  regard  with 
disdain.' 

Aner  had  braved  it  out  with  Hatob,  but  he  in- 
stinctively felt  that  every  word  which  his  stern  mentor 
had  spoken  was  true.  No  sooner  had  Hatob  ended 
than  the  young  man  started  up  and  paced  the  room. 
He  looked  round  him  at  its  splendid  ornaments,  its 
magnificent  works  of  art.  That  very  morning  he  had 
given  a  large  sum  for  a  single  picture  ;  and  he  had 
spent  nearly  as  much  on  a  fantastic  ornament  the 
day  before.  Had  these  objects,  he  was  forced  to  ask 
himself,  given  him  one  hundredth  part  of  the  pure 
pleasure  which  he  could  have  derived  from  that  '  high 
desire  that  others  should  be  blessed,'  which,  as  he  knew 
from  earlier  experience,  '  savours  of  heaven  '  ?  Was  it 
as  much  worth  while  to  be  the  proud  possessor  of  a 
rarity  as  to  have  the  blessing  of  those  to  whom  he  had 
been  kind  ?  Angry  with  himself  for  once,  sickened, 


26  ALLEGORIES 

disappointed,  pulled  up  short  at  the  beginning  of  a 
despicable  career,  he  summoned  back  his  secretary, 
and  to  his  cynical  astonishment  tore  up  the  prospectus 
which  he  had  written  for  the  mining  company,  and 
sent  generous  aid  to  those  whom  he  knew  to  be 
innocent  and  suffering.  More  than  this,  he  made  a 
swift  but  resolute  vow  that  he  would  at  once  combat 
and  subdue  the  love  of  money  which  he  already  felt 
to  be  a  root  of  all  kinds  of  evil  in  him  ;  that  he 
would  turn  with  abhorrence  from  every  scheme  which 
had  in  it  even  a  suspicion  of  fraudulency ;  and  that 
with  the  money  which  came  to  him  by  honourable 
labour  he  would  to  the  utmost  of  his  power  do  kind 
and  generous  deeds.  He  had  repented,  and  had 
amended  his  evil  tendency  ere  it  was  too  late.  That 
evening,  as  he  sat  alone,  Hatob  came  in,  and  affection- 
ately embraced  him.  In  his  sweetest  tone  he  spoke 
words  of  praise  and  encouragement,  and  gave  him  one 
of  those  radiant  smiles  which  Aner  had  scarcely  seen 
since  he  was  a  boy  ;  and  the  same  night  as  Aner  slept  he 
dreamed  that  King  Elyon  himself  appeared  to  him,  laid 
his  hand  upon  his  head  in  blessing,  and  said,  *  My  son  ! ' 
But  the  young  secretary  was  a  spy  of  Hara's,  and, 
when  he  reported  what  had  occurred,  Hara  was  thrown 
into  a  paroxysm  of  rage.  What  if,  after  all,  he  should 
entirely  lose  his  hold  on  Aner  ?  what  if  Hatob  should 
yet  prevail,  and  he  should  himself  feel  the  heavy  hand 
of  his  master  Ashmod  ?  This  must  not  be.  In  trying 
to  ruin  Aner  by  avarice  and  greed  and  the  love  of  pelf 
he  had  indeed  for  a  time  succeeded,  but  he  had  evidently 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  27 

used  a  wrong  snare.  Aner's  disposition  was  intrinsically 
generous.  It  was  clear  that  he  could  not  be  fatally 
overthrown  by  a  temptation  which  was  not  in  accordance 
with  his  real  tendencies.  For  Aner  was  naturally  kind- 
hearted,  and,  whenever  he  used  his  resources  for  the 
relief  of  suffering,  the  gratitude  of  those  whom  his 
generosity  had  helped  made  him  feel  an  unwonted 
happiness.  Hara,  defeated  in  the  use  of  a  temptation 
which  he  had  unwisely  chosen,  felt  conscious  that  he 
must  adopt  another  plan. 


IV 

Who  knows  not  Circe, 

The  daughter  of  the  sun,  whose  charmed  cup 
Whoever  tasted  lost  his  upright  shape, 
And  downward  fell  into  a  grovelling  swine  ? — MILTON. 

1  IT  was  foolish  of  me  to  tempt  him  with  the  bait  of 
avarice,'  thought  Hara  to  himself,  '  though  it  catches 
millions  of  older,  more  worldly,  and  more  hardened 
souls.  That  net,  thanks  to  Hatob's  interference,  is 
broken,  and  Aner  is  delivered.  But  he  shall  find,  to 
his  cost,  that  my  quiver  is  full  of  magic  arrows  !  What 
shall  I  try  on  him  next  ?  ' 

He  meditated  a  little,  and  then  exclaimed,  '  I  have 
it !     My  friend  Comus  shall  lend  me  some  of 
His  orient  liquor  in  a  crystal  glass ; 

and  when  Aner  has  learnt  to  drain  it  "  with  fond  in- 
temperate thirst,"  I  will,  drive  him  into  the  sty  of 
drunkenness.' 


28  ALLEGORIES 

Like  all  highly  strung  natures,  Aner  often  felt  a 
reaction  of  lassitude  after  unwonted  exertions.  He 
loved  the  wine-cup,  but  had  never  drunk  to  excess. 
From  that  he  had  been  saved  by  a  certain  natural 
nobleness  which  made  him  abhor  the  lower  forms  of 
degradation.  In  the  gay  gatherings  of  his  own  and 
Hara's  companions  he  would  have  been  at  first  so  much 
repelled  by  the  foulness  of  intoxication,  that  Hara  had 
taken  care  to  prevent  him  from  feeling  this  alarmed 
disgust.  But  might  he  not  very  gradually  be  seduced 
into  excess,  and  so,  almost  before  he  was  aware  of  it, 
become  the  victim  of  intemperance  ? 

Yes  !  Little  by  little  Aner  grew  more  fond  of  wine, 
and  less  careful  about  extreme  moderation  in  its  use. 
At  last,  when  the  time  seemed  ripe,  Hara  schemed  to 
secure  Aner's  invitation  to  a  banquet  unusually  sump- 
tuous— a  banquet  which  it  was  proposed  should  be  given 
to  him  by  all  the  gayest  and  richest  of  his  associates. 
It  was  a  congratulatory  supper  in  honour  of  his  recent 
promotion  to  a  high  office  which  he  had  won  by  his 
abilities  at  an  unusually  early  age.  Hara  took  care 
that  all  the  brightest  and  wittiest  young  nobles  should 
be  invited ;  that  the  adornments  of  the  board  should 
be  of  the  most  dazzling  beauty,  the  flowers  enchant- 
ingly  fragrant,  the  viands  stimulating  and  sumptuous, 
the  wines  varied,  rich,  potent,  of  exquisite  bouquet  and 
insidious  strength.  Health  after  health  was  drunk ; 
song  after  song  was  sung;  a  golden  loving  cup  was 
frequently  passed  round.  The  mirth  grew  warm  and 
tumultuous.  '  No  heeltaps  to-night !  '  was  the  general 


THE   LIFE   STORY  OF  ANER  29 

cry,  if  any  one  refrained  from  emptying  his  glass.  Aner 
had  delighted  the  company  with  one  of  his  loveliest 
songs,  and  no  sooner  had  he  ended  it  than  the  most 
distinguished  of  the  guests,  amid  rapturous  applause, 
poured  out  a  bumper  of  sparkling  wine,  and  challenged 
every  one  present  to  fill  to  the  brim  the  glasses  of 
exquisite  workmanship  upon  the  table,  and  to  drain 
them  in  honour  of  him  whom  they  all  admired  and 
loved.  They  did  so,  and  then  Aner  rose,  glass  in  hand, 
to  thank  them. 

'  Now,  Aner,'  they  shouted,  '  you  must  drink  every 
drop  of  it  as  we  have  done  ;  else  we  shall  think  that 
you  despise  us  and  don't  care  for  us.' 

He  felt  that  he  was  flushed;  that  his  hand  shook 
slightly ;  that  his  eyes  swam  ;  that  his  footing  was 
hardly  firm ;  that  if  he  took  this  rich  cup  of  wine  he 
would  have  had  too  much :  but,  actuated  by  fear  of 
man  and  love  of  popularity,  he  raised  the  glass  to  his 
lips,  and  was  about  to  drink  it  to  the  dregs,  when  two 
incidents  occurred. 

First,  he  happened  to  glance  at  his  hand  to  see 
whether  its  tremulousness  was  observable,  and  he 
noticed  that  his  ring  had  never  seemed  to  be  of  a  paler 
blue.  The  sight  filled  him  with  desperation  rather 
than  remorse,  for  the  ring  had  been  growing  paler  year 
by  year,  and  he  seemed  to  care  but  little  if  now  its 
colour  was  too  far  gone  to  be  recalled. 

Next,  at  that  instant,  and  for  an  instant  only,  a 
sudden  silence  fell  on  the  flushed  and  laughing  throng  of 
his  companions.  He  glanced  up  in  astonishment  to  find 


30  ALLEGORIES 

the  cause,  and  saw  Hatob  approaching  him  among  the 
rose-crowned  revellers.  His  simple  garb  showed  a 
marked  contrast  with  their  rich  apparel,  and  his  look 
was  anxious  and  stern.  The  hush  which  his  presence 
caused  was  followed  by  a  roar  of  excited  anger. 

'  Impudent  intruder  !  '  hissed  one. 

'  Now  we  are  to  have  a  teetotal  lecture  "  in  one 
weak,  washy,  everlasting  flood,"  '  sneered  another. 

'  O  foolishness  of  men  that  lend  their  ears 
To  those  budge  doctors  of  the  Stoic  fur, 
And  fetch  their  precepts  from  the  Cynic  tub, 
Praising  the  lean  and  sallow  abstinence,' 

said  another. 

'  Aner,  turn  the  fellow  out !  '  shouted  several. 

'  Begone,  Hatob !  '  said  Hara,  rising  from  his  seat 
in  a  flame  of  fury.  '  What  business  have  you  here  ?  '  he 
added,  striding  out  in  front  of  him  with  threatening 
gesture. 

'  Business  which  I  shall  perform,'  said  Hatob  in  a 
firm  voice, '  and  from  which,  as  you  well  know,  you  are 
powerless  to  hinder  me.  Stand  aside,  rebellious  servant 
of  Ashmod  !  ' 

Hara  had  raised  his  arm  as  though  to  strike,  but  he 
seemed  to  cower  and  almost  wither  away  under  Hatob' s 
glance,  and  his  hand  fell  impotently  at  his  side  as  he 
sank  back  into  his  seat.  Hatob  advanced  to  Aner  as 
he  sat  in  the  place  of  honour,  on  a  richly  decorated 
chair  covered  with  cushions  of  purple  silk.  He  laid 
his  hand  a  little  roughly  on  Aner's  shoulder,  and  said, 
'  Aner,  beware  ! ' 


HE    LAID    HIS    HAND    ON    ANER'S    SHOULDEB 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  33 

The  glass  was  in  Aner's  hand,  and  as  in  a  flash  of 
light  he  seemed  to  read  the  words,  '  Look  not  thou 
upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  its  colour 
in  the  cup  ;  when  it  goeth  down  smoothly  ;  at  the  last 
it  biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stingeth  like  a  basilisk.' 
But  even  while  he  seemed  to  see  the  words  burning 
before  him  like  the  mystic  letters  on  Belshazzar's 
palace-wall,  the  jeers  and  jibes  of  his  comrades  sounded 
like  a  storm  in  his  ears,  and  a  passionate  defiance 
of  his  better  instinct  rose  in  his  heated  brain.  He 
drained  the  glass  to  the  bottom,  and,  while  a  shout 
of  applause  greeted  his  action,  he  set  it  down  and 
dashed  the  back  of  his  hand  with  all  his  force  on 
Hatob's  lips. 

'  Go,'  he  said,  '  my  tormentor,  and  let  me  see  you 
no  more  !  ' 

With  unmoved,  dignity  Hatob  lifted  his  robe  to  his 
bleeding  lips.  He  gave  Aner  one  glance  of  pity,  in 
which  the  blue  of  his  eyes  seemed  to  run  like  fire 
through  the  young  man's  soul ;  then,  turning  away,  he 
passed  through  the  riotous  banqueters  with  such  a  look 
upon  his  face  as  once  more  awed  them  into  trembling 
silence. 

All  the  spontaneous  hilarity  of  the  banquet  was  now 
quenched.  The  guests  broke  up  into  sullen  groups. 
There  were  few  of  them  who  had  not  taken  more  than 
was  good  for  them.  Some  tottered  out  at  once.  Those 
who  stayed,  drank  on,  but  idly  babbled  and  quarrelled 
and  could  not  restore  the  mirth.  Some  of  them  soon 
rested  their  heads  on  the  tables  and  fell  into  heavy 

D 


34  ALLEGORIES 

slumber.  Others  were  carried  home.  Aner,  half  stu- 
pefied, sat  breathing  stertorously  with  his  head  sunk 
upon  his  breast.  Hara — looking  at  him  with  diabolical 
satisfaction,  and  hissing  under  his  breath,  '  Now  you 
are  mine  for  ever ' — signed  to  Aner's  servant  to  take 
him  home. 

Aner  woke  the  next  morning  in  shame  and  sickness, 
feeling  that  he  had  publicly  disgraced  himself.  His 
sight  was  dull ;  his  eyes  were  red ;  his  head  was 
aching.  Hara  assiduously  exerted  himself  to  counter- 
act his  depression.  He  laughed  over  the  occurrences 
of  yesterday.  He  said  that  a  carouse  on  a  joyous 
occasion  involved  no  discredit  whatever,  and  did  no 
one  any  harm.  He  tried  to  charm  away  Aner's  gloom. 
He  told  him,  once  and  for  ever,  to  get  rid  of  the  fetish- 
worship  of  ridiculous  scruples.  He  spoke  of  Hatob's 

warning  as 

but  the  lees 
And  settlings  of  a  melancholy  blood. 

He  jocularly  suggested  that  Aner  would  feel  quite  well 
again  by  taking  a  hair  of  the  dog  that  bit  him. 

It  only  took  a  few  days  for  the  full  tide  of  life  to 
flow  back  into  its  normal  channels.  Aner's  wealth 
was  still  growing  ;  success  and  honours  still  flowed  on 
him.  But  he  found  that  it  was  not  granted  him  to 
give  himself  up  to  sin  for  one  short  hour,  and  then  to 
be  quite  happy.  His  career  involved  anxieties.  He 
was  often  in  low  spirits.  When  they  seemed  inclined 
to  master  him,  he  could  for  the  time  dispel  them  by 
the  charmed  cup.  At  such  times  it  always  seemed  to 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  35 

him  as  if  some  tempting  spirit  offered  him  wine  as  a 
potent  nepenthe,  and  whispered  : 

But  this  will  cure  all  straight ;  one  sip  of  this 
Will  bathe  the  drooping  spirit  in  delight, 
Beyond  the  bliss  of  dreams.     Be  wise  and  taste  ! 

Slowly,  but  very  surely,  he  felt  the  ugly  liking  for  this 
mechanical  stimulus  and  this  dangerous  sedative  grow- 
ing upon  him,  dimming  his  faculties,  blunting  his  keen 
perceptions,  confusing  his  intellect,  gradually  inflaming 
his  features  and  palsying  his  strength.  There  were 
times  when,  though  he  was  still  surrounded  with  envy 
and  admiration  for  his  gifts,  his  wealth,  his  position, 
he  began  utterly  to  despise  himself.  And  he  knew 
that  the  remedy  to  which  he  was  tempted  to  resort 
only  aggravated  the  radical  disease ;  when  he  sought 
relief  in  wine  he  did  but  precipitate  the  inevitable 
reaction.  The  penalty  trod  more  and  more  swiftly 
upon  the  heels  of  the  sin ;  and  the  yet  more  enervated 
lassitude,  and  the  yet  more  unspeakable  depression 
from  which  he  now  constantly  suffered,  were  as  fiery 
goads  which  drove  him  on  to  still  grosser  and  more 
irremediable  excess. 


Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fowler : 
The  snare  is  broken,  and  we  are  delivered. — Ps.  cxxiv.  7. 

AND  now  Hara  thought  that  he  had  him  safely;  that 
he  had  bound  him  in  fetters  of  adamant,  and  shut  him 

D  2 


36  ALLEGOKIES 

up  in  a  prison  without  i^on  bars.  He  thought  that  by 
this  time  he  could  throw  off  the  mask  and  needed  not 
to  show  himself  in  the  guise  of  a  flatterer  or  a  bene- 
factor any  longer.  He  might  now  assume  the  attitude 
of  an  insolent  and  irresistible  despot,  who  would  make 
his  tyranny  felt  and  acknowledged,  and  who  had  no 
longer  need  to  simulate  the  smallest  pity  or  affection, 
or  to  leave  to  his  victim  the  paltry  and  passing  lure  of 
present  prosperity. 

It  had  always  been  a  part  of  Hara's  plan  to  put 
Aner  into  the  close  proximity  of  those  who  would 
tempt  and  foster  every  weaker  or  baser  element  of  his 
disposition.  Nearly  all  of  Aner's  household  were  of 
Hara's  choosing,  and  his  servant  had  secret  instructions 
to  keep  his  glass  abundantly  replenished  at  his  meals, 
and  to  see  that  potent  drinks  were  always  ready  to  his 
hand. 

Aner  had  come  in,  vexed  and  wearied,  from  the 
heat  of  political  strife  in  which  he  had  been  engaged. 
He  felt  inclined  to  ask  whether  the  game  was  worth 
the  candle;  whether  the  honour  and  influence  to  be 
attained  could  ever  reward  him  for  the  labour,  anxiety, 
and  turmoil.  He  was  specially  disgusted  because,  that 
day,  a  bitter  and  scurrilous  opponent  had  garnished  his 
speech  with  many  sneers  and  personal  innuendoes  in 
which  he  had  spoken  of  Aner's  'intemperance.'  He 
used  the  word  ostensibly  in  one  sense,  but  had  quite 
obviously  meant  it  to  be  understood  in  another.  Now 
Aner  had  taken  the  utmost  pains  to  disguise  his  failing 
and  temptation,  and  he  flattered  himself  that  he  had 


THE    LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  37 

succeeded.  What  if  it  were  otherwise?  What  if 
Humour  were  already  clacking  against  him  with  her 
ten  thousand  tongues  ?  What  if  the  very  abjects  could 
henceforth  mouth  at  him,  and  his  fellow-drunkards 
make  songs  upon  him?  And — all  of  a  sudden  he 
noticed  that  his  ring  was  absolutely  colourless.  It 
had  been  a  deep-hued  sapphire,  now  it  looked  like  a  dull 
and  common  white  crystal.  It  reminded  him  of  thoughts 
which  had  long  been  utter  strangers  to  his  soul.  Was  he 
not,  after  all,  a  son  of  King  Elyon  ?  Had  he  altogether 
forfeited  the  privileges  of  his  royal  birth  ?  Youth  was 
gone  like  a  dream.  His  beauty  was  impaired;  his 
strength  was  diminishing.  Death  would  come  soon, 
and  then — what  comes  hereafter. 

While  these  thoughts  were  chasing  each  other 
through  his  brain  his  butler  summoned  him  to  his 
dinner.  That  day  he  happened  to  be  alone. 

'  I  see  that  you  are  tired,  sir,'  said  the  servant 
insinuatingly.  '  A  glass  of  wine  will  refresh  you.' 

Kefresh  him?  He  wondered  whether  the  man 
knew  how  frightful  at  that  moment  was  the  imperious 
craving  for  wine  which  he  felt  gnawing  like  a  viper  at 
his  heart.  This  was  the  time  at  which  he  usually 
indulged  his  propensity.  But  there  was  something  in 
the  glance  of  the  servant  which  displeased  him.  Was 
the  man  in  league  with  Hara  against  him  for  his  ruin  ? 

Seating  himself  at  the  table  he  summoned  the 
whole  fortitude  of  his  will,  and  said  : 

'  Take  this  wine  away.  Remove  those  glasses ;  I 
will  only  take  water  this  evening.' 


38  ALLEGORIES 

1  Water  ? '  said  the  man  with  open-eyed  astonish- 
ment and  disdain. 

1  Water  ! '  answered  Aner,  almost  fiercely.  '  Did  I 
not  speak  plainly  enough  ?  Obey  my  orders  ! ' 

The  butler  slowly  removed  the  cup  and  the  wine 
from  the  place  where  they  stood  just  in  front  of  Aner, 
but  he  only  removed  them  a  little  way  and  eyed  his 
master  with  curious  looks  as  he  marked  the  total  failure 
of  his  appetite,  and  the  suffering  caused  him  by  the 
absence  of  his  usual  stimulant. 

*  Oh,  sir,'  he  at  last  ventured  to  say,  '  you  are  not 
enjoying  your  dinner  at  all.  Do  just  take  this  little 
glass  of  wine.  It  will  do  you  so  much  good.'  And  he 
poured  out  a  sparkling  foaming  glass,  of  which  the 
delicate  fragrance  filled  the  room. 

Even  this  agent  of  Hara  did  not  know  how  fearfully 
the  impulse  to  succumb  acted  on  the  perverted  senses  of 
his  master ;  but  Aner's  pride  rose  in  revolt  at  being 
tempted  to  what  he  knew  was  degradation  by  his  own 
servant.  After  an  instant's  struggle  to  master  himself, 
he  seized  the  glass,  hurled  it  against  the  wall,  and,  in  a 
voice  which  rang  with  passion,  ordered  the  man  to  leave 
the  room. 

'  Ah  !  he  will  drink  like  a  fish  the  moment  my  back 
is  turned/  thought  the  man ;  '  but  it  is  time  that  Hara 
should  know  of  this.  And  if  he  takes  to  drinking  water 
my  place  won't  be  worth  having.' 

The  servant  slipped  out  and  told  Hara  that  he 
thought  Aner  must  be  unwell,  for  he  seemed  much 
disturbed,  and  would  only  drink  wrater  at  dinner. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  39 

'  Ah  !  '  said  Hara,  '  I  will  pay  him  a  visit.' 

He  found  Aner  in  a  condition  absolutely  pitiable. 
His  nerves  were  in  a  state  of  violent  irritation,  and  as 
he  madly,  despairingly,  struggled  with  himself  and 
tried  to  shake  off  the  strangling  load  of  his  temptation, 
he  trembled  piteously,  and  was  reduced  to  a  condition 
almost  abject. 

'  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? '  said  Hara  inso- 
lently, for  he  had  long  laid  aside  his  courteous  and 
seductive  manner.  '  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this 
nonsense?  Why  do  you  make  yourself  ill?  Take 
your  wine  like  a  man.  Who  do  you  suppose  will  care 
two  straws  whether  you  drink  or  not  ?  ' 

Aner  looked  up  at  him.  Hara's  expression  was 
now  the  one  which  was  natural  to  him.  The  sham 
Belial-beauty  in  which  he  had  known  how  to  disguise 
his  true  appearance  in  earlier  years  was  gone.  Aner 
felt  a  spasm  of  feeble  wonder  as  to  how  he  could  ever 
have  found  any  fascination  in  this  odious,  leering, 
blighted  wrretch.  He  had  smitten  Hatob — the  good, 
the  noble  Hatob — in  the  face  ;  could  he  not  spurn  this 
demon- visaged  tempter  out  of  his  presence? 

Alas !  he  felt  helpless,  paralysed.  He  could  not 
rise  from  his  seat. 

'  Come,  you  poor  fool,'  said  Hara  ;  *  as  if  you  could 
resist !  A  secret  drunkard  like  you  may  shed  maudlin 
tears  over  himself,  but  you  know  very  well  that  if  I 
put  a  full  wine-cup  there  on  the  table,  and  between 
you  and  it  burned  up  the  nether  fires,  you  would  still 
stretch  out  your  hand  and  take  it.  Drink  it,  slave !  ' 


40  ALLEGORIES 

he  thundered  out,  as  Aner  still  sat  in  trembling 
silence. 

Aner  groaned  deeply  within  himself.  He  felt  the 
terrible  truth  of  Hara's  words  ;  but  had  he  indeed  sunk 
so  low  ? 

'Hara,'  he  muttered,  'you  are  a  very  demon,  and  I 
loathe  you.' 

'  Demon  or  no  demon,'  said  Hara  with  a  fiendish 
laugh,  *  I  will  have  you  know  that  now  I  am  your 
master.'  He  rose  and  poured  out  the  wine  and  put  it 
close  by  Aner's  hand,  that  its  fragrance  might  over- 
power his  senses.  '  Drink  that,  slave  ! '  he  said  again, 
fiercely  stamping  his  foot,  '  or  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you.  You  cannot  help  yourself.' 

It  seemed  as  if  the  agonising  struggle  was  over,  for, 
in  spite  of  the  sense  of  loathing  in  his  heart,  Aner 
stretched  forth  his  hand  for  the  cup  with  the  heart- 
broken cry,  '  It  is  true  ;  I  cannot  help  myself.' 

And,  as  he  did  so,  raising  his  eyes  for  a  moment, 
he  caught  sight  of  one  of  the  splendid  works  of  art 
with  which  his  room  was  adorned.  It  was  a  marble 
statue  of  Imrah,  son  of  King  Elyon,  in  kingly  robes, 
in  kingly  attitude.  In  his  left  hand  lay  the  open  book, 
as  though  to  say,  '  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live ; '  and 
his  right  hand  was  uplifted,  not  to  repel  but  to  invite, 
not  to  threaten  but  to  bless.  Around  him  twined  the 
lily  of  purity,  the  rose  of  holy  joy,  the  vine  with  its 
clusters  of  purple  fruitfulness.  Crouching  as  the  willing 
pedestal  of  his  feet,  with  arched  backs,  were  the  lion 
and  the  young  lion.  Crushed  into  the  dust  beneath 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  41 

were  the  basilisk  and  the  adder,  and  underneath  was 
inscribed  on  black  marble  in  golden  letters,  '  Thou  shalt 
tread  upon  the  lion  and  the  adder ;  the  young  lion  and 
the  dragon  shalt  thou  trample  under  thy  feet.'  But 
what  struck  Aner  most  was  that  in  the  kingly  eyes 
there  seemed  to  be  an  expression  of  infinite  tenderness, 
of  infinite  compassion. 

Hara  followed  the  glance  of  his  eyes  and  was 
enraged.  '  What  has  all  that  to  do  with  you,  slave 
and  wretch  ?  '  he  said  ;  and,  striding  up  to  the  statue,  he 
tore  it  from  its  place  and  flung  it  violently  upon  the 
ground.  '  Now,'  he  said,  '  leave  Imrah  to  the  saints. 
He  has  nothing  to  do  with  you,  nor  you  with  him. 
That  is  all  over  long  ago.  Come  ;  you  see  that  struggle 
is  useless.  Take  the  good  wine ;  get  rid  of  this  morbid 
folly  and  be  happy.' 

Again  Aner  seemed  as  if  he  were  convulsed  to  his 
inmost  soul.  He  felt  the  utter  abjectness  of  being  a 
slave  to  a  dead  thing ;  but  the  fatal  force  of  habit 
pressed  on  him  like  a  vice  and  past  sin  seemed  to 
have  frozen  into  impotence  all  his  powers  of  resistance. 
Was  not  the  struggle  useless,  as  Hara  had  said  ?  Why 
should  he  thus  agonise,  when,  sooner  or  later,  he  must 
be  swept  away  by  the  drowning  current  ?  Again  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  the  wine  with  a  gesture  of 
despair.  As  he  did  so  he  saw  the  wicked  leer  on  the 
face  of  Hara  : — but  he  saw  something  else. 

On  the  wall  over  Hara's  head  hung  another  work 
of  art — a  priceless  picture.  Again  it  represented  Imrah, 
the  deliverer  of  the  Purple  Island.  Over  the  white 


42  ALLEGORIES 

vesture,  which  symbolised  his  innocence,  fell  the  gold- 
embroidered  folds  of  his  priestly  robe,  adorned  with  its 
jewelled  Urim.  On  his  long  and  flowing  locks  was  a 
golden  crown,  in  the  radiants  of  which  was  twined  a 
crown  of  thorns,  such  as  the  rebels  of  Ashmod  had 
made  him  wear;  but  now  the  thorns  had  blossomed 
into  flowers.  From  his  left  hand,  fastened  by  a  golden 
chain,  hung  a  lamp,  of  which  the  overpowering  bright- 
ness fell  on  the  closed  door  at  which  he  was  knocking. 
But  the  door  had  been  long  unused,  and  over  its  rusted 
stanchions  the  ivy  crept  and  clung.  A  bat,  creature  of 
the  darkness,  disturbed  by  his  knock,  was  flitting  away, 
and  from  within  came  no  answering  gleam.  Thick 
beside  the  base  of  the  door  towered  the  huge  withered 
stalks  of  a  dead  hemlock,  once  gay  in  vivid  green,  now 
an  emblem  of  chill  venom  and  extinct  desires.  Under- 
neath the  picture  was  written,  '  Open  the  door  unto 
him  that  knocks.'  And  once  more  to  Aner's  fascinated 
gaze  it  seemed  as  if  the  sad  eyes  glowed  with  an  inward 
light,  and  that  the  light  was  full  of  pardon,  and  help, 
and  love. 

In  an  instant  he  withdrew  his  hand  from  the  wine- 
cup  ;  he  beat  his  breast ;  he  fell  upon  his  knees.  For- 
gotten memories  came  back  to  him ;  his  eyes  were  filled 
with  tears  of  penitence ;  and  raising  heavenwards  his 
clasped  hands,  his  streaming  eyes,  he  cried : 

'  Oh,  Elyon,  I  am  thy  son  !  0  Imrah,  help 
me !  ' 

As  though  in  instant  answer  to  his  prayer,  the  door 
of  the  room  swung  open  and  some  one  entered.  It 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  43 

was  Hatob — still  beautiful,  still  noble.  He  looked 
weak  and  very  ill ;  but  what  a  contrast  between  that 
pale  face  of  peace  and  holiness,  and  the  tainted  features 
of  Hara  !  What  a  difference  between  those  deep-blue 
eyes  and  the  wicked,  surreptitious,  ferret  glances  of  the 
other,  full  of  unhallowed  and  malignant  fires  ! 

'  Oh,  Hatob,'  moaned  Aner,  still  upon  his  knees  and 
with  bent  head,  '  my  brother,  my  more  than  brother, 
have  you  still  pity  for  a  wretch  like  me?  Can  you 
forgive  the  insult  of  my  cruel  blow  ?  ' 

Hatob  gently  raised  Aner's  tear-stained  features,  in 
which  few  could  have  recognised  more  than  the  wreck 
of  Paedarion's  early  beauty,  so  deeply  had  evil  passions 
left  their  furrows  there. 

'  Look  at  me,  Aner,'  he  said  ;  '  do  I  look  as  if  I  had 
not  forgiven,  as  though  I  did  not  love  you?  Even 
when  you  cried  aloud  just  now  I  heard  the  voice  of 
Imrah  send  me  to  you.' 

'  Oh,  Hatob,  would  that  I  had  never  deserted  you ! 
Can  I  ever  be  snatched  from  these  fetters  of  my  slavery, 
of  which  the  iron  seems  to  have  eaten  into  my  soul  ? 
Oh,  Hatob,  save  me  from  him ! '  he  cried,  pointing  to 
Hara,  who  was  glaring  upon  him  so  fiercely  that  he 
might  have  seemed  to  be  Ashmod's  self. 

'  Depart,  Hara ! '  said  Hatob,  whose  whole  frame 
seemed  to  dilate  with  majesty  as  he  spoke.  '  What  ? 
dare  you  linger  ?  Have  you  never  had  to  shrink  and 
howl  ere  now  under  Ely  on' s  scourge  of  fire  ?  Go,  or 
my  own  hand  shall  drag  you  to  your  prison !  ' 

*  He  is  mine  and  I  will  have  him  yet,'  hissed  Hara ; 


44  ALLEGORIES 

but  Hatob  looked  at  him,  and  with  a  curse  of  baffled 
malice  he  turned  and  fled. 

'  Aner,'  said  Hatob,  '  deliverance  is  yet  possible  to 
you,  but  I  should  deceive  you  were  I  to  say  that  it  is 
easy.  There  is  a  law  which  rivets  sin  to  its  conse- 
quences by  a  link  of  adamant.  It  would  have  been 
immeasurably  more  easy  for  you  never  to  have  fallen 
into  this  bondage  than  now  to  escape  from  it.  Yet 
there  is  one  way,  if  you  have  resolution  to  embrace  it, 
which  can  save  you  out  of  this  one  sin,  even  if  it  be  so 
as  by  fire.  Never  again  must  you  so  much  as  taste 
the  wine-cup.  If  you  do,  the  demon  which  lurks  in  it 
for  you  will  leap  upon  you  with  tenfold  force.  He  has 
his  clutch  upon  your  hair.  Only  by  this  resolution 
can  you  shake  him  off.  Dismiss  your  bad  servant ; 
banish  from  your  house  that  which  for  you  is  poison 
and  is  death.' 

'  I  will,'  murmured  Aner,  '  if  I  can.' 

'  If  you  will,  you  can,'  answered  Hatob.  '  Pledge 
yourself  even  now  in  Elyon's  name,  with  the  help  of 
Imrah  and  his  unseen  Spirit,  that  the  wine  which  you 
have  abused  to  your  own  destruction  shall  touch  your 
lips  no  more.' 

'  I  vow,'  said  Aner ;  '  so  help  me  Heaven  !  I  blush 
for,  I  loathe  my  servitude.' 

'  There  is  always  help  for  those  that  need  and  seek  it. 
I  can  help  you  in  one  small  way  by  recommending  to 
you  a  thoroughly  honest  and  faithful  servant.  His 
name  is  Xenios,  and  you  may  trust  him  implicitly. 
But  you  must  rely  mainly  upon  yourself.  Kally  all  the 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  45 

best  powers    of  your  nature.     Entreat   for   aid    from 
above  and  you  will  be  safe.     Eemember  !     Watch  ! ' 

He  lifted  a  warning  hand,  he  blessed  him,  he 
departed.  And  when  he  had  gone,  Aner  sank  once 
more  upon  his  knees  and  vowed  his  vow. 


VI 

If  the  roots  be  left,  the  grass  will  grow  again. — Chinese  Provei-b, 

i 

ANER  had  now  reached  middle  age.  He  had  for  some 
years  resolutely  kept  the  vow  which  he  had  taken. 
Wine  was  never  seen  at  his  table.  He  had  gained 
immeasurably  and  in  every  way  by  his  voluntary  absti- 
nence. The  rumours  about  his  weakness  had  died  away. 
His  body  had  recovered  much  of  its  old  vigour,  his  mind 
its  normal  clearness,  his  countenance  its  noble  expres- 
sion. And  now  the  highest  guerdons  of  ambition 
seemed  to  be  easily  within  his  grasp. 

Again  Hara  felt  himself  foiled.  Aner  had  great 
force  of  natural  character.  He  had  felt  so  utterly 
humiliated  by  the  shameful  bondage  of  intemperance 
that  by  sheer  resolution  it  might  have  seemed — but  in 
reality  by  the  aid  of  the  unseen  Spirit  whose  help  he 
had  implored — he  had  burst  the  gates  of  brass  and 
smitten  the  bars  of  iron  in  sunder. 

Indignant  at  the  loss  of  so  fine  a  votary,  Ashmod — 
who  was  rarely  seen,  but  was  known  to  lurk  in  dark 
places  of  the  Purple  Island,  and  had  many  a  secret 


46  ALLEGOEIES 

shrine,   where  his   followers  burnt  to  him  their  un- 
hallowed incense — summoned  Hara  to  his  presence. 

.  '  You  have  managed  very  badly,  Hara,'  said  the 
terrible  Prince.  'You  will  lose  the  indulgences  I 
offered  you.  Aner  might  have  been  my  most  promising 
subject,  and  would  have  won  many  others  to  me.  You 
should  have  studied  his  nature  better.' 

1  Hard  and  thankless  master  ! '  snarled  the  crestfallen 
Hara.  '  I  tried  him  with  gold  and  I  succeeded.' 

'  Only  for  a  very  short  time.  It  is  the  meanest 
natures  only  which  are  caught  by  that  glittering  and 
useless  bane.  Aner  is  not  mean,  and  you  might  have 
known  that  he  would  soon  get  tired  of  such  a  fool's 
bauble,  fit  only  for  dotards  and  old  women.' 

'  I  subdued  him,  body  and  soul,  to  the  ghoul  of  drink 
for  some  years.  But  for  accident,  and  but  for  that 
accursed  Hatob,  I  should  have  had  him.  I  do  not 
despair  of  winning  him  back  even  yet.' 

'  Drink  may  be  a  subsidiary  help,'  said  Ashmod ; 
'  but  there  are  natures  too  lofty  to  accept  its  degrading 
servitude.' 

'  It  has  ruined  many  a  strong  man,'  said  Hara 
sullenly. 

*  It  will  fail  with  Aner,'  said  Ashmod ;  '  but  try 
him  now  with  Lilith,  the  demon  of  the  noonday 
— the  demon  of  perverted  love.  Many  have  fallen 
by  her  wounds  quite  late  in  life ;  some  even  in  old 
age.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  you,  Hara ;  but  do  not 
despair.  We  have  many  resources  at  our  disposal ;  we 
shall  have  him  yet.' 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF  ANER  47 


VII 

Sin  startles  a  man — that  is  the  first  step  ;  then  it  becomes  pleasing ; 
then  easy ;  then  delightful ;  then  frequent ;  then  he  is  impenitent ; 
then  obstinate. — JEREMY  TAYLOR. 

At  quam  csecus  inest  vitiis  amor  !  omne  futurum 
Despicitur,  suadentque  brevem  preesentia  fructum. 

CLAUDIAN,  Eutrop.  ii.  50. 

ANEE,  having  for  some  time  broken  the  violence  of 
the  temptation  which  was  destroying  him,  and  deeming 
himself  now  secure  from  it,  had  greatly  relaxed  his 
vigilance.  He  was  trying  to  content  himself  with 
such  things  as  the  Purple  Island  could  give.  The 
Porphyrians  looked  on  him  as  the  most  successful  of 
men.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing  lacking  to  his 
happiness  except  the  home-life  into  which  he  had  never 
entered.  He  had  remained  unmarried.  He  had  not 
been  attracted  by  the  many  maidens  who  would  have 
felt  themselves  enchanted  by  alliance  with  him.  All 
other  possessions  which  men  account  as  boons  seemed 
to  be  at  his  disposal.  His  magnificent  residence  was 
rich  in  works  of  art.  His  parks  and  gardens  were  the 
loveliest  and  sweetest  which  the  island  could  show. 
His  woods  teemed  with  the  wild  life  of  nature  ;  his 
streams  were  famous  for  their  fish.  His  aspect  was 
strikingly  noble,  his  manners  full  of  charm,  his 
friends  numerous.  Honour  had  showered  all  her  stars 
upon  him  ;  criticism  was  now  silent ;  he  was  highly 


48  ALLEGORIES 

appreciated ;  he  stood  upon  the  topmost  steps  of 
power  and  influence.  And  yet  he  had  to  confess  to 
himself  that  he  was  far  from  happy.  These  passing 
treasures,  even  at  their  best  and  fullest,  could  not  satisfy 
the  heart  of  a  son  of  Elyon.  They  seemed  to  crumble 
into  ashes  at  every  touch.  They  had  looked  like 
ambrosial  fruit  until  he  could  freely  take  of  them,  and 
then  they  became  Dead  Sea  apples,  filling  his  mouth 
with  dust  and  bitterness.  In  his  far-off  boyish  years, 
before  he  had  entered  into  the  drearier  parts  of 
the  wilderness,  the  visions  of  such  things  as  he  now 
possessed  had  looked  like  an  enchanting  mirage — soft 
oases  of  happy  verdure  and  palms  and  crystal  waters  ; 
he  had  reached  them  with  weary  feet,  and  lo  !  he  saw 
nothing  around  him  but  barren  acres  of  stony  wilder- 
ness, and  dreary  wastes  of  sun-encrimsoned  sand. 

There  was  nothing  more  to  gain.  Kiches  ?  he  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  what  he  had ;  and  though 
he  now  gave  away  largely,  yet,  as  there  was  no  personal 
contact  or  personal  sympathy  of  tenderness  in  his 
giving,  his  charity  became  mechanical,  and  the  thanks 
which  he  received  sounded  hollow.  Splendour?  rich 
carpets,  and  tapestries  dyed  with  purple  of  the  sea, 
glowing  pictures  and  gilded  corridors  palled  upon 
him.  The  works  of  art  had  become  nothing  but 
pieces  of  furniture  which  had  no  longer  any  fascina- 
tion, at  which  indeed  he  rarely  looked.  There  over 
the  fireplace  in  his  favourite  room  hung  the  picture 
of  Imrah,  which  had  arrested  his  attention  at  a 
crisis  of  his  life ;  but  now  he  scarcely  ever  glanced  at 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  49 

an  object  so  familiar.  A  stream  cannot  rise  higher 
than  its  fountain,  and  Aner,  living  on  the  low  levels  of 
worldliness,  scarcely  even  by  mechanical  habit  raised 
his  heart  to  the  true  source  of  his  being.  He  saw  the 
days  pass  by  him  in  long  procession  ;  he  felt  that  the 
lack  of  high  spiritual  discernment  had  made  him  snatch 
only  at  their  most  worthless  gifts,  and  as  they  departed 
in  silence  he 

Under  their  solemn  fillets  saw  the  scorn. 

In  the  estimation  of  the  Porphyrians  his  character 
was  now  quite  unexceptionable.  '  What  a  great  man 
Aner  is !  '  deferentially  murmured  all  the  youths. 
'  And  what  a  good  man  too  ! '  said  their  elders.  'Look 
at  his  charities  !  See  how  punctually  he  performs  his 
religious  duties  !  Even  calumny  would  blush  to  tell 
tales  of  him.' 

And  in  truth  Aner  did  not  neglect  the  public  forms 
of  religion,  in  so  far  as  they  consisted  in  external 
functions,  though  to  one  or  two  of  his  most  intimate 
friends  he  confessed  that  he  found  these  functions 
distressingly  dreary,  and  that  sermons  were  a  great 
trial  to  an  intellectual  man.  Aner  was  trusting  in 
his  own  heart ;  and  if  he  had  not  ceased  to  read  the 
book  which  his  father  Elyon  had  given  him,  he  would 
have  found  there  that  '  he  who  trusteth  in  his  own 
heart  is  a  fool.' 

Hatob  had  not  been  near  him  for  a  long  time,  and 
Hara,  who  was  narrowly  watching  him,  yet  kept  out 
of  his  way.  He  was  indeed  glad  to  see  that  Aner's 

£ 


50  ALLEGORIES 

love  to  his  father  Elyon  had  dwindled  to  a  dim  con- 
vention and  a  hollow  externalism,  but  he  was  determined 
to  secure  him  as  an  avowed  votary  of  Ashmod. 

Aner  was  seated  in  the  great  window  of  his  town- 
palace,  which  was  surrounded  by  a  lovely  pleasance 
full  of  flowers.  Two  boys,  of  whom  one  was  carrying 
to  him  his  daily  correspondence,  were  coming  down 
the  path,  and  were  indulging  the  spontaneous  exuber- 
ance of  their  mirth  in  constant  antics,  with  bursts  of 
laughter  and  snatches  of  song. 

*  Those  lads,'  thought  Aner,  '  are  only  sons  of  my 
humblest  dependents,  and  they  are  far  happier  than  I 
am.  The  remembrance  of  youth  is  a  sigh.' 

One  of  his  gardeners  was  hard  at  work  watering 
and  tending  the  flowers,  and  whistling  a  merry  tune. 

1  Light-hearted  wretch  ! '   thought  Aner,  recalling 

the  line  of  a  poet, 

He  whistles  as  he  goes 
For  want  of  thought, 

He  little  fancies  that  the  renowned  Aner  would  gladly 
change  places  with  him  ! ' 

Then  he  saw  a  young  mother  leading  her  little 
white-haired  child  by  one  hand,  while  in  the  other  she 
was  carrying  '  father '  his  breakfast.  The  labourer 
kissed  his  wife,  and  then  he  snatched  up  the  little  boy 
in  his  arms,  and  pressed  his  rosy  cheeks  against  his 
own,  and  puffed  out  his  own  cheeks  for  the  chubby  hands 
to  push,  and  ran  his  rough  fingers  through  the  short 
sunny  curls,  murmuring  endearing  words  to  the  little 
fellow  all  the  while.  Aner  sighed.  'What  is  all  I 


THE   LIFE   STOEY   OF  ANER  ol 

possess,'  he  said,  '  to  the  joy  of  that  man's  home  ?  Why 
have  I  never  made  myself  a  home  ?  This  is  not  a 
home  ;  it  is  a  gorgeous  prison.'  And  then  he  murmured 
to  himself : 

'  There's  nothing  in  the  world  can  make  me  joy  ; 
Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  tale, 
Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man. 

Yes,  the  old  epitome  is  right — we  are  born  weeping ; 
we  live  unhappy  ;  we  die  disappointed.' 

Hara  had  concealed  himself  among  the  thick 
flowering  shrubs,  hard  by  the  windows.  '  Aner  is 
weary  of  everything,'  he  said  to  himself.  '  He  will 
soon  be  ripe  for  the  demon  of  the  noonday.' 

He  waited  till  evening,  when,  after  the  day's  routine 
of  business,  Aner  returned  to  the  desolate  magnificence 
of  his  abode.  Then  Hara  visited  him — not  like  the 
Hara  whom  he  had  last  seen,  but  a  gay,  courteous, 
smiling,  handsome  man  of  the  world. 

'  Aner,  my  old  friend,'  he  said,  '  I  am  afraid  that 
when  last  I  saw  you  we  did  not  part  on  good  terms. 
You  were  in  an  excitable  mood,  and  perhaps  I  was 
inconsiderate.  May  I  dine  with  you  this  evening  ? 
And  if  you  will  allow  me  I  will  introduce  to  you  my 
friend  Tollas — a  man  of  fine  taste  ;  we  might  have  a 
pleasant  evening.' 

Aner,  his  thoughts  still  under  the  shadow,  welcomed 
the  diversion,  and  he  ordered  for  the  use  of  his  guests 
the  wines  which  now  he  never  touched. 

'  What  ?  do  you  still  drink  that  ridiculous  water, 
Aner  ?  '  said  Hara.  '  That  is  why  you  are  so  moody. 

B    2 


52  ALLEGORIES 

I  am  quite  against  excess ;  I  delight  in  moderation ; 
but  I  am  sure  a  few  glasses  of  good  wine  never  did 
any  one  any  harm.' 

'  Thanks,'  said  Aner, '  I  have  not  the  least  desire  for 
it,  and  feel  much  better  without  it.' 

'But  at  least,'  said  lollas,  'you  will  take  a  glass 
with  us  to-day,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  good  fellowship, 
and  that  you  may  not  seem  to  be  passing  upon  us  a 
silent  censure.' 

'  If  you  wish  it,'  said  Aner,  oblivious  for  the  moment 
of  his  vow.  '  I  am  now  in  no  danger  of  its  influence,' 
he  added  to  himself. 

He  filled  a  glass,  and  drank  to  these  pleasant 
gentlemen.  Instantly  the  old  passion  leapt  on  him 
again — '  terrible,  and  with  a  tiger's  leaps  ' — and  he 
took  another  glass  and  yet  another,  and  began  to 
feel  the  rich  intoxicant  flowing  like  lava  through  all 
his  veins. 

But  it  was  not  Hara's  immediate  object  to  startle 
him  by  a  relapse  into  his  old  failing,  and  when  dinner 
was  over  he  proposed  that  they  should  all  go  and  see  a 
celebrated  dancer  named  Phaedra,  whose  sprightliness 
and  beauty,  and  poetry  of  rhythmic  motion,  were  at 
that  time  the  common  theme  of  the  Porphyrians. 

'  Oh,  do,'  said  lollas  ;  '  Phaedra's  loveliness  pene- 
trates the  heart  like  a  sunbeam.  She  is  the  most 
radiant  girl  I  ever  saw.  Nestor  himself  might  have 
fallen  in  love  with  her. ' 

'  I  do  not  go  to  see  public  dancers,'  said  Aner. 

'  Oh,  I    forgot,'  said  lollas,  with    a  slightly  veiled 


THE   LIFE    STORY    OF   ANER  53 

sneer.  '  Of  course  you  are  a  personage  in  the  religious 
world.' 

'  There  is  a  subtle  taint  about  these  dancing-halls,' 
said  Aner,  offended  ;  '  and  the  persons  who  frequent 
them  are  not  at  all  to  my  taste.' 

'  This  will  never  do,'  thought  Hara.  '  Aner  is 
getting  nettled,  and  lollas  will  spoil  all.' 

'You  forget/  he  said,  'that  Aner  is  a  man  of 
exquisite  culture,  and  distinction,  and  refinement.  But 
really,  Aner,  Phaedra  is  quite  exceptional,  and  there  is 
not  the  least  harm  in  her  exhibition.' 

'  A  man  of  my  position  is  too  much  stared  at,  and 
gives  rise  to  idle  talk  if  he  goes  to  vulgar  places  of 
amusement,'  said  Aner,  still  displeased. 

'  I  agree  with  you,'  answered  Hara  ;  *  but  a  man  of 
your  position  ought  to  know  something  at  first  hand 
about  the  people,  their  dissipations,  and  their  way  of 
life.  Why  should  you  not  come  with  us  incognito  ? 
In  five  minutes  I  could  so  disguise  you  that  you  would 
not  be  recognisable  by  your  dearest  friend.' 

'  Do  come,'  said  lollas  ;  '  it  would  be  delightful.' 

It  was  strange,  but  at  that  moment  Aner  thought 
he  heard  the  voice  of  Hatob.  It  seemed  to  be  uttered 
in  the  lowest  whisper,  yet  it  thrilled  through  him,  and 
it  said,  '  They  know  most  of  evil  who  know  it  least.' 

Aner  yielded,  though  unwillingly.  A  large  cloak,  a 
wig,  a  false  moustache,  a  few  other  touches  which 
Hara  skilfully  added,  changed  his  aspect  so  completely 
that  he  hardly  knew  himself.  They  drove  to  the  hall ; 
and  when  they  were  there  Hara  whispered  that,  to 


54  ALLEGORIES 

avoid  notice,  they  must  do  like  the  rest  and  order  wine. 
He  took  care  that  it  should  be  of  the  best,  and  Aner, 
uneasy  in  his  present  surroundings,  took  of  it  freely. 

Phaedra  glided  upon  the  stage  amid  deafening 
greetings  and  showers  of  roses.  She  was  young ;  she 
was  undeniably  lovely.  Her  long,  perfumed  hair 
floated  in  waves  over  her  shoulders  ;  her  eyes  were 
large  and  deep  and  lustrous,  with  long  dark  eyelashes  ; 
her  cheek  was  glowing ;  her  dress  was  light  and 
gleamed  with  jewels  ;  her  every  movement  in  its  subtle 
grace  was  like  voluptuous  music.  Perhaps  under  other 
conditions  Aner  might  have  merely  looked  on  with 
cold  curiosity,  or  even  with  displeasure.  But  now  the 
wine  had  inflamed  his  senses,  and  the  light  and  the 
warmth,  and  the  novelty  and  the  excitement  added 
irresistible  potency  to  the  spell  of  the  sorceress. 
He  fixed  upon  her  his  burning  gaze ;  no  step,  no 
motion  was  lost  upon  him ;  and,  was  he  mistaken,  or 
did  this  fairy  vision  more  than  once  turn  her  eyes 
upon  him  and  answer  his  passionate  and  ardent  gaze  ? 

He  was  not  at  all  mistaken.  Kara  had  schooled 
Phaedra  well. 

'  How  enchantingly  lovely  ! '  murmured  Aner  almost 
to  himself ;  but  Hara  overheard  him,  and  laughed  in 
his  heart.  When  the  dance  was  over,  he  said, '  I  know 
Phaedra  a  little ;  would  you  like  me  to  introduce  you 
to  her  ? ' 

*  I  should  like  nothing  better,'  said  Aner.  'Is  she 
as  good  as  she  is  beautiful  ?  ' 

'  Oh,    quite ! '    answered    lollas,    concealing    with 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  55 

difficulty  the  sardonic  smile  which  it  tortured  his  lips 
to  suppress. 

They  went  into  a  luxurious  boudoir  behind  the 
stage,  and  Phaedra,  who  had  a  brother  with  her — or  so 
she  called  him — whom  she  introduced  by  the  name  of 
Eutrapelos,  received  them,  though  she  was  still  dressed 
in  her  jewelled  gauze,  with  the  most  charming  modesty 
and  the  sweetest  decorum.  She  knew  lollas  well,  but 
concealed  the  fact,  and  spoke  to  Hara  as  a  child  might 
speak  to  an  elderly  friend  for  whom  it  does  not  much 
care.  It  was  Aner  whom  she  smote  with  her  most 
cunning  witchery,  and  dazzled  with  her  most  magical 
smiles.  She  was  perfectly  aware  who  he  was,  for  Hara 
had  told  her  ;  but  she  carefully  concealed  her  knowledge, 
and  addressed  all  her  remarks  as  to  a  casual  traveller, 
not  to  a  great  leader  of  the  Porphyrian  people.  Phaedra 
was  one  of  those  sorceress  women  of  the  class  to  which 
Queen  Cleopatra  belonged.  Her  beauty  had  in  it  the 
same  maddening  spell  as  that  of  her  who  dragged  so 
many  kings  and  heroes  to  their  ruin.  Aner  was  the 
last  of  the  visitors  to  bid  her  good-bye,  for  Hara  had 
managed  that  the  others  should  precede  him  through 
the  narrow  passage.  As  soon  as  Hara  dropped  her 
hand,  Aner  seized  it,  and  imprinted  on  it  an  impassioned 
kiss.  Hara  pretended  not  to  notice  it,  but  he  could 
scarcely  control  the  convulsively  malignant  amusement 
which  it  caused  him.  That  night  he  went  to  the 
secret  shrine  of  Ashmod  to  report  progress,  and  the  two 
yelled  aloud  with  laughter,  till  ghosts  and  dark  shadows, 
and  grim  fiends  and  ghastly  spectres  were  disturbed, 


56  ALLEGORIES 

and  began  to  flit  like  vampires  about  the  unhallowed 
roofs. 

But  when  Aner  was  gone,  Phaedra  turned  to  her 
'  brother  ' — as  it  was  convenient  to  call  him — and 
cried  with  shrill  merriment,  '  Good  heavens !  what  a 
conquest !  who  would  have  imagined  that  the  dis- 
tinguished, the  eminent,  the  respectable  Aner  could  be 
so  caught  ?  This  is  serious,  Eutrapelos.  It  means 
nothing  less  than  marriage.  An  illustrious  destiny  is 
before  you  and  me !' 

*  Hem  !  '  said  Eutrapelos  enigmatically.  '  There 
are  marriages  and  there  are  marriages ! ' 


VIII 

BaffKavia  yap  (f>av\6rT]Tos  a/j.avpo'i  ra  Ka\d.-    Wisdom,  iv.  12. 

WITHIN  a  few  months  thereafter  it  was  publicly  an- 
nounced to  the  amazed  Porphyrians  that  a  marriage 
was  arranged  between  the  beautiful  Phaedra,  whom 
all  the  world  admired,  and  Aner,  one  of  their  most 
illustrious  statesmen.  Even  Ashmod's  votaries  were 
astonished.  This  was  indeed  bewitchment !  Phaedra 
might  hereafter  become  a  very  Lilith  or  Naama.  They 
repeated  the  announcement  to  each  other  with  mean- 
ing smiles.  The  faithful  subjects  of  King  Elyon  were 
grieved  and  scandalised.  Phaedra  had  played  her  part 
with  a  skill  as  marvellous  as  her  dancing.  She  had 
passed  herself  off  as  an  ingenuous  maiden  of  good  birth, 
left  an  orphan,  compelled  against  her  will  to  support 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  57 

herself  by  the  public  display  of  that  poetry  of  motion 
which  was  an  inborn  gift,  and  living  a  quiet  and 
virtuous  life  under  the  guardianship  of  her  good 
brother  Eutrapelos.  And  as  for  Aner,  trusting  vainly 
in  his  own  strength,  never  looking  upwards,  forgetting 
all  that  was  best  in  the  past,  he  had  fallen  a  hopeless 
victim  to  the  demon  of  the  noonday.  He  was  infatuated 
by  the  fascination  of  a  bad  woman.  His  feeling  for  her 
bore  no  resemblance  to  holy  love. 

Hatob  could  do  but  little,  for  Aner  sedulously 
avoided  him.  Sometimes  indeed  Aner  fancied  that  he 
heard  in  the  inmost  caverns  of  his  heart  the  haunting 
of  a  voice  which  warned  and  troubled  him  ;  and  once 
when  Phaedra  had  been  with  him,  there  came  to  him, 
involuntarily,  that  thrilling  whisper,  simply  recalling 
to  him  the  words  of  the  neglected  and  forgotten  book 
which  his  father  had  given  him  : 

'  With  her  much  fair  speech  she  causeth  him  to 
yield,  with  the  flattering  of  her  lips  she  forced  him. 
He  goeth  after  her  straightway  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the 
slaughter,  or  as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks, 
till  a  dart  strikes  through  his  liver ;  as  a  bird  hasteth 
tojthe^snare  and  knoweth  not  that  it  is. for  his  life.' 

He  was  quite  unable  to  prevent  the  words  forcing 
themselves  upon  him ;  but  then  he  seemed  to  hear 
Hara  sneering,  *  Obsolete  Pharisaism  !  ' 

But  the  voice  would  continue,  and  it  said,  '  Hearken 
unto  me,  therefore,  0  my  children,  and  attend  to  the 
words  of  my  mouth.  Let  not  thine  heart  incline 
to  her  ways,  go  not  astray  in  her  paths.  For  she  hath 


58  ALLEGORIES 

cast  down  many  wounded ;  yea,  many  strong  men 
have  been  slain  by  her.  Her  house  is  in  the  way  to 
hell,  going  down  to  the  chambers  of  death.' 

At  that  moment  Hara  was  announced,  and  poured 
out  a  torrent  of  felicitations  to  Aner  on  the  good  news 
that  he  had  won  such  a  gifted,  such  a  lovely  bride. 
*  Why,  Aner,'  he  said,  'all  the  young  men  are  dying 
with  envy  of  you.  They  were  in  crowds  at  the  virtuous 
Phaedra's  feet,  and  she  has  shown  her  calm  good  sense 
by  rejecting  every  one  of  them,  and  choosing  you.' 

The  crisis  seemed  to  Hatob  so  terribly  serious  that 
he  felt  it  his  duty  to  interfere.  But  perhaps  his  visit 
was  ill-timed.  Phaedra,  bewitchingly  attired,  was 
seated  on  a  rich  footstool  at  Aner's  feet.  His  hand 
was  on  her  dark  locks,  enwreathed  with  gems ;  her 
liquid  eyes  were  upraised  to  his  own.  He  had  been 
talking  over  with  her  the  date  to  be  fixed  for  the 
bridal  day,  and  all  her  replies  were  low,  and  soft,  and 
sweet. 

It  was  then  that  Hatob  entered.  Phaedra  did 
not  feel  in  the  smallest  degree  embarrassed,  but  Aner 
was. 

•Let  me  introduce  to  you  my  future  bride,'  he  said 
to  Hatob  in  a  constrained  voice. 

'  Did  you  know  her  as  she  is,  as  all  but  yourself 
know  her  to  be,  she  could  never  be  your  bride,'  said 
Hatob  gravely.  '  You  think  yourself  wise,  but  you 
have  been  egregiously  befooled.' 

Phaedra  leapt  to  her  feet  and  uttered  a  cry. 
'  Protect  me,  Aner,'  she  said,  '  from  this  calumniator.' 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF  ANER 


59 


'Inquire  for  yourself,  Aner,'  said  Hatob  quietly. 
'  Mistake  not  an  intoxicating  and  unhallowed  frenzy 
for  a  pure  and  blameless  love.' 


ANER   AND    PHAEDRA 


But  Aner's  blood ' was ! up  and  he  would  not  listen. 
'Leave  me,'  he  cried,  'tormentor,  I  hate  you!  For 
the  second  time  I  bid  you  let  me  never  see  your  face 
again.' 


60  ALLEGOEIES 

'  One  word  before  I  leave  you  for  ever,'  said  Hatob, 
'  unless  your  own  will  summons  me.  This  word — 

'  Not  one  word,'  said  Aner  ;  and  as  Hatob  seemed 
still  about  to  speak,  he  seized  him  by  the  hair,  and 
would  have  hurled  him  out  of  the  room  ;  but  suddenly 
he  caught  sight  of  the  sapphire  ring,  which,  after  having 
for  a  time  resumed  a  certain  tinge  of  lustre,  had  again 
blanched  to  a  deathful  white.  Sensible,  by  past  ex- 
perience, how  solemn  was  the  warning,  he  felt  a  shock 
of  agony  strike  through  his  nerves. 

Hatob  only  turned  on  him  a  look  of  the  deepest 
pity.  *  Farewell,  Aner,'  he  said,  without  a  touch  of 
resentment.  *  A  fool  must  eat  of  the  fruit  of  his  own 
ways,  and  be  filled  with  his  own  devices.' 


IX 

The  wandering  of  concupiscence  doth  undermine  the  simple  mind. 

Wisdom,  iv.  12. 

SOME  time  had  passed.  At  first  Aner  lived  as  in  a 
delirium  of  self-deceit.  An  enchanted  dream  seemed 
to  wave  over  his  head  its  wild  and  fragrant  wings. 

Ere  six  months  were  spent  the  dream  had  ended 
in  ghastly  disenchantment.  The  rustling  masquerade 
was  over  ;  the  dread  reality  began. 

He  saw  Phaedra  as  she  was — beautiful,  but  partly 
by  artificial  aid  ;  intriguing  ;  rapacious ;  mean,  touchy, 
indescribably  commonplace ;  habitually  untruthful ; 


THE   LIFE    STORY    OF   ANER  61 

domineering ;  not  to  be  trusted  for  a  moment ;  wholly 
without  intellect,  or  care  for  anything  intellectual ; 
immensely  extravagant ;  panting  for  outrageous  adula- 
tion ;  without  a  particle  of  real  love  for  him  ;  devoted, 
heart  and  soul,  to  any  one  who  would  burn  at  her  shrine 
the  thickest  fumes  of  flattery,  the  one  incense  which  she 
most  loved.  And  it  was  to  this  powdered  and  painted 
phantom,  whose  very  hair  was  dyed,  that  he  had,  in 
infatuated  passion,  impawned  his  life. 

She  cared  in  reality  for  no  being  in  the  world  ex- 
cept the  handsome  Eutrapelos,  who,  as  Aner  now  dis- 
covered by  accident,  was  not  her  brother  at  all.  Aner 
sternly  forbade  him,  on  peril  of  his  life,  ever  to  set  foot 
in  the  house  again ;  yet  he  was  tormented  by  the 
suspicion  that  he  visited  her  in  secret. 

Every  day  Phaedra  showed  herself  more  plainly  in 
her  native  ugliness — as  no  longer  a  siren  but  a  vulgar 
vixen.  She  displayed  the  unutterable  odiousness  and 
worthlessness  of  a  character  which  was  nothing  but  a 
shallow  veneer  of  surface  qualities — an  assumed  charm 
and  simplicity  of  manner  which  was  but  the  coloured 
film  over  depths  of  putrescent  stagnancy. 

The  passion  of  her  life  was  to  win  fresh  adorers,  by 
once  more  exhibiting  her  charms  and  her  dancing  on 
the  public  stage,  under  the  glare  of  lamplight.  Aner 
prohibited  this  with  such  sternness  that  she  saw  it 
would  be  impossible.  She  therefore  indemnified  herself 
by  giving  banquets,  preposterously  sumptuous,  to  her 
crowds  of  admirers.  At  these,  when  Aner  was  absent, 
she  privately  exhibited  the  dances,  which,  so  far  from 


62  ALLEGORIES 

seeming  beautiful  to  her  husband,  now  sickened  him 
with  disgust  at  their  artificial  and  voluptuous  sameness. 

And  this  was  the  creature  to  whom  the  demon  of 
the  noonday  had  now  linked  him  by  indissoluble  ties  ! 

At  first  he  had  tried  to  awaken  her  dormant  soul — to 
find  if  she  could  be  aroused  by  any  topic  of  human 
interest.  But  at  once  he  stood  appalled  by  the  depths 
of  an  ignorance  which,  apart  from  experience,  he  would 
have  deemed  impossible.  When  he  first  detected  her 
subterfuges,  her  ill-concealed  passions,  her  mean  in- 
trigues, he  tried  expostulation.  He  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  make  a  rock  fruitful  by  sprinkling  it  with  dew- 
drops.  He  began  to  see  that  she  could  only  be  truly 
described  as  earthly,  sensual,  devilish.  When  she 
sailed  down  in  splendid  array  to  the  silly  and  odious 
circle  of  male  and  female  admirers  with  whom  she  filled 
his  house,  she  always  chose  the  evening  light,  which 
would  not  betray  that  her  naturally  pale  cheeks  were 
painted  with  cinnabar,  her  eyes  artificially  brightened 
with  antimony,  and  her  eyelids  tinged  with  henna. 
When  Aner  saw  her  in  this  guise,  she  seemed  to  him 
barely  human.  He  was  filled  with  a  revulsion  of  loath- 
ing not  to  be  expressed. 

And,  misled  by  unbridled  passion,  he  had  actually 
wedded  this  woman  to  help  him  to  get  rid  of  weariness 
and  loneliness,  and  thinking  that  thus  he  would  have 
a  home ! 

Many  a  shameful  and  terrible  scene  took  place 
between  them.  They  were  always  ended  on  her  part  by 
fits  of  violence  from  which  he  had  to  protect  himself,  or 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  63 

by  floods  of  vituperation  mingled  with  words  which  made 
him  shudder,  and  by  a  succession  of  piercing  screams, 
which,  to  his  intense  disgust,  caused  curious  spectators 
to  linger  outside  the  house.  Strange  tales  began  to  be 
afloat  about  the  brutality  which  Aner  was  asserted  to 
exercise  towards  that  charmer,  his  lovely  and  longsuffer- 
ing  wife  ! 

The  house  of  Aner  became  a  pandemonium  of 
hopeless  wretchedness.  The  fires  of  hell  were  burning 
upon  his  hearth. 

At  least,  however— if  it  were  impossible  to  awaken 
her  to  any  sense  of  shame,  or  to  discover  in  her  any 
decent  human  quality — at  least  he  determined  to  stop 
her  in  the  mad  career  of  squandering,  which  threatened, 
if  unchecked,  to  exhaust  even  his  wealth,  and  to  reduce 
him  to  pauperism.  At  the  morning  meal  they  now 
used  to  meet  with  no  greeting,  and  never  looked  at 
each  other  without  an  expression  of  intense  mutual 
aversion,  mixed  on  both  sides  with  vague  fear.  One 
day,  as  soon  as  the  meal  was  over,  she  rose  to  sweep 
out  of  the  room  to  the  boudoir  on  which,  though  it  was 
ugly  with  the  worst  incongruousness,  she  had  exhausted 
the  powers  of  luxury.  But  Aner  bade  her  stay.  He 
was  in  a  white  heat  of  scorn  and  indignation. 

1  Woman  !  '  he  said. 

*  Woman  ! '  she  repeated  with  a  scream  ;  '  how 
dare  you  so  address  me  ?  ' 

'  Would  you  have  me  call  you  wife  ?  '  he  said,  in  a 
voice  which  rang  with  scorn  ;  '  even  the  title  "  woman  " 
is  dishonoured  by  being  applied  to  you.' 


64  ALLEGORIES 

She  snatched  a  silver  ornament  from  the  table,  and 
hurled  it  at  him,  as  she  had  flung  such  missiles  before. 
It  missed  him,  and  with  one  stride  forward  he  seized 
her  by  the  two  wrists,  and,  holding  her  as  in  a  vice, 
while  she  trembled  at  the  fury  which  blazed  in  his  eyes, 
*  Woman,'  he  said,  '  the  debts  you  have  already  con- 
tracted are  pouring  in  upon  me.  That  necklace  of 
diamonds  which  you  paraded  last  night  round  your 
neck,  those  earrings  which  hung  down  your  painted 
cheeks ' 

If  a  look  could  have  killed  Aner,  surely  her  glance 
would  here  have  struck  him  dead,  as  she  struggled  to 
set  herself  free ;  but  he  continued — '  Those  ornaments 
alone  cost  as  much  as  a  king's  ransom.  Your  other 
extravagances,  equally  tasteless  and  monstrous,  would, 
if  continued,  bring  me  before  the  year  is  over  to  utter 
ruin.  This  must  cease.  I  have  privately  sent  round  to 
every  leading  merchant  in  this  part  of  the  Purple  Island 
that  no  order  you  give  is  to  be  attended  to.  From  this 
day  I  take  the  management  of  the  household  out  of  your 
hands.  I  have  ordered  your  horses  and  carriages  to  be 
sold.  I  have  had  all  the  jewels,  except  those  which  in 
my  original  folly  I  gave  you,  sent  back  or  sold.  You 
shall  give  no  more  banquets  in  this  house.  You  shall 
turn  over  an  entirely  new  leaf,  or,  at  all  costs,  I  will 
procure  a  separation  from  you.' 

For  a  moment  the  blood  seemed  to  congeal  in 
Phaedra's  veins,  and  she  grew  pale  as  death.  Then, 
recovering  herself,  she  unpacked  her  evil  heart  in  such 
curses  and  such  vile  terms  as  Aner  had  never  heard. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  65 

She  rent  the  house  with  screams  of  diabolical  rage 
and  disappointment ;  lastly,  she  snatched  a  knife  from 
the  table  and  aimed  a  blow  with  it  at  Aner's  face. 
Though  latterly  he  had  always  been  on  his  guard  when 
speaking  to  her,  he  had  barely  time  to  dash  her  arm 
aside ;  but  she  inflicted  a  gash  upon  his  cheek. 

The  many  servants  of  the  house,  attracted  by  her 
screams,  had  been  witnesses  of  this  odious  scene,  and 
now  some  of  her  female  attendants  took  hold  of  her 
and  hurried  her  out  of  the  room.  Aner  stood  there, 
his  wounded  cheek  streaming  with  blood,  humiliated 
beyond  words  to  utter. 

For  the  next  week  he  never  saw  her.  She  was 
shut  up  in  her  room,  but  not  a  day  passed  which  did 
not  bring  him  fresh  shocks  of  shame  and  disaster.  The 
worst  was  a  letter  from  his  colleagues  in  the  Porphyrian 
Government  regretting  that,  in  spite  of  their  high 
estimate  of  his  abilities,  they  regarded  his  marriage  as 
so  discreditable,  and  the  scandals  which  had  begun  to 
attach  themselves  to  his  name  as  so  flagrant,  that,  with 
great  regret,  they  were  compelled  to  request  his  resigna- 
tion of  his  high  office.  He  was  thus  suddenly  and 
disgracefully  hurled  down  from  distinction  into  insig- 
nificance. 

The  servants  gossiped  ;  the  scandals  spread.  The 
successful  always  find  intensely  bitter  critics  in  the 

malignant. 

It  is  the  penalty  of  being  great, 
Still  to  be  aimed  at. 

Like  all  public  men,  Aner  had  hosts  of  envious  and 

F 


66  ALLEGORIES 

unscrupulous  enemies  who  felt  a  fiendish  satisfaction 
in  bespattering  his  name  with  nmd.  In  every  organ  of 
news  Aner  saw  himself  held  up  to  ridicule  or  execration. 
If  he  ventured  into  the  streets,  his  acquaintances 
shunned  him,  or  refused  to  notice  his  presence.  The 
secretary  of  every  club  to  which  he  belonged  sent  him 
a  letter  saying  that  a  special  club-meeting  had  been 
summoned,  and  he  had  been  expelled  from  member- 
ship. The  most  monstrous  misrepresentations  about 
him  were  everywhere  rife  and  everywhere  believed. 
His  fair-weather  friends  fell  from  him  as  leaves  fall 
from  a  tree  in  winter.  It  seemed  as  if  past  envy  left 
him  no  single  defender.  He  did  not  know  how  to 
dissipate  these  calumnies ;  he  scarcely  even  cared  to 
do  so.  And,  as  a  last  drop  in  this  thunderstorm  of 
sudden  calamities,  he  heard  that  one  of  the  great 
undertakings  in  which  his  fortune  was  invested  had 
unexpectedly  collapsed,  and  that  he  was  only  left  with  a 
wreck  and  fraction  of  his  former  wealth.  Crushed  and 
stupefied  by  the  storm  of  misfortune,  in  which  financial 
as  well  as  social  ruin  were  but  items,  he  seemed  in 
his  despair  to  be  sinking  to  the  very  depths.  Too  much 
stunned  for  consecutive  thought — smitten  and  pierced 
through  and  through  by 

The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune — 

in  the  apparent  hopelessness  and  finality  of  his  ruin, 
he  turned  once  more  to  the  old  resource  of  strong 
drink.  He  had  broken  his  vow  ;  of  what  consequence 
was  it  if  he  broke  it  again  ?  Of  what  consequence  was 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  67 

anything  ?  Let  death  come  ;  whatever  it  was  it  must, 
he  thought,  be  better  than  such  a  life  as  this.  The 
resource  of  suicide  was  often  present  to  his  mind.  His 
friends  seemed  to  have  deserted  him  unanimously,  and 
he  sought  no  grace,  no  help.  Though  sunk  to  the 
depths,  he  would  not  look  up. 

But  something  must  be  done  ;  the  future  must  be 
arranged  for ;  his  affairs  must  be  settled.  It  happened 
that  his  physician,  a  good  and  tender-hearted  man, 
hearing  the  rumour  that  he  was  in  evil  case,  visited 
him.  He  found  him  seriously  ill,  ordered  him  change 
of  air,  and  offered  to  place  him  under  the  care  of  a  good 
and  able  young  student,  who  would  accompany  him  to 
the  seaside  as  a  companion.  Xenios,  the  steward  whom 
Hatob  had  recommended  to  him,  and  for  whom  Aiier 
had  acquired  a  strong  feeling  of  respect  and  affection, 
would  nurse  him  in  his  present  weakness,  and,  above 
all,  would  see  that  he  touched  no  strong  drink. 


x 

Di  boni  quam  male  est  extra   legem  viventibus !  quod  meruerunt, 
semper  expectant. — PETRONIUS. 

BUT,  as  though  he  were  not  already  sufficiently  ruined 
body  and  soul,  Hara  was  anxious  to  destroy  him  utterly 
by  goading  him  to  seek  revenge.  While  he  was  slowly 
gaining  strength  and  the  composure  of  despair  amid  the 
sea  breezes,  and  was  summoning  his  best  faculties  to 
meet  the  new  conditions  of  his  life,  Hara  managed 

F  2 


68  ALLEGOBIES 

that  a  letter,  addressed  to  Phaedra,  should,  by  the 
intentional  misdirection  of  an  emissary  in  his  service, 
be  conveyed  to  the  hands  of  Aner.  He  recognised 
the  handwriting  of  Eutrapelos,  and,  tearing  it  open, 
found  that  it  contained  a  proposal  to  Phaedra  to  fly 
with  him  in  secret  to  some  far-off  place,  after  she  had 
robbed  the  house  of  Aner  of  every  available  precious 
thing  which  had  been  left  from  the  shipwreck  of  his 
fortunes. 

Jealousy  and  indignation  at  this  crowning  act  of 
treachery  determined  Aner  to  hurry  back  to  his  house 
unannounced  and  at  once.  At  his  door  he  saw  a 
beautiful  little  child  of  about  four  years  old,  playing 
among  the  flowers.  He  did  not  stop  to  notice  him, 
though  he  felt  a  vague  passing  wonder  who  he  was. 
He  rushed  in  and  searched  for  Phaedra  in  vain  from 
room  to  room.  At  last  he  bethought  him  of  a  distant 
room  in  one  of  the  turrets,  in  which  he  had  amused 
himself  by  placing  a  collection  of  the  arms  of  every 
age  and  nation.  He  entered,  and  there,  seated  on  a 
divan,  was  Eutrapelos,  while  Phaedra's  arms  were 
round  his  neck. 

The  young  man  was  startled  out  of  his  usual  self- 
possession  by  the  sudden  interruption.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet. 

( Phaedra  is  my  wife,'  he  cried,  in  his  disturbed 
alarm,  as  though  to  defend  himself  for  having  been 
seen  with  her. 

1  Your  wife  ! '  exclaimed  Aner  with  fierce  indigna- 
tion. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  69 

1  She  was  my  wife  when  you  first  saw  her ;  the 
little  boy  you  must  have  seen  outside  your  door  is  our 
son.' 

'  Then  I  am  not  married  at  all/  said  Aner.  '  Oh, 
deadly  and  thrice-accursed  villain ! '  He  advanced 
with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  avenging  his  wrongs  on 
Eutrapelos,  whose  lies  and  deeply  dyed  treachery  had 
had  no  small  share  in  accomplishing  his  ruin.  The  con- 
centrated force  of  his  indignation  seemed  to  give  him 
an  unnatural  calm.  He  strode  to  the  door,  turned  the 
key  in  the  lock,  and  put  it  in  his  robe.  Then,  taking 
down  two  swords  which  were  crossed  on  the  wall,  he 
flung  one  of  them  at  the  feet  of  Eutrapelos  and  said  : 
'  Here  and  now  we  fight  till  one  of  us  falls.' 

Eutrapelos  did  not  wish  to  fight,  but  he  had  no 
choice.  An  actor  by  profession,  he  had  been  trained 
in  the  use  of  weapons. 

'  Do  not  fight !  '  screamed  Phaedra ;  but  the  two 
were  in  such  deadly  earnest  that  they  did  not  hear  her, 
and,  feeling  her  impotence,  she  could  only  shriek  and 
wring  her  hands. 

It  was  clear  from  the  first  that  the  skill  of 
Eutrapelos  was  thwarted  by  his  sense  of  guilt,  and 
that  Aner's  awful  indignation  made  him  irresistible. 
Before  long,  by  a  dexterous  turn  of  his  arm,  Aner  had 
whirled  the  sword  of  Eutrapelos  out  of  his  grasp  and 
lunged  at  him.  Phaedra  realised  his  danger,  and, 
since  Eutrapelos  was  the  only  being  she  had  ever 
loved,  she  rushed  between  them  in  the  endeavour  to 
protect  him.  The  result  was  inevitable.  Aner  had 


70  ALLEGORIES 

no  power  to  stay  his  arm.  The  thrust  intended  for 
Eutrapelos  in  fair  fight  pierced  her  and  she  fell. 

There  was  a  horror-stricken  pause.  Eutrapelos  raised 
her  in  his  arms,  and  laid  her  motionless  on  the  divan. 

'  You  have  killed  her !  '  he  cried,  and  with  a  spasm 
of  fresh  fury,  in  which  his  eyes  seemed  to  be  starting- 
out  of  his  head,  he  seized  his  lost  sword  and  rushed  on 
Aner  with  mad  impetuosity.  Aner  had  barely  time  to 
spring  back,  and  the  fight  began  again.  Eutrapelos  was 
worsted.  As  Aner  pressed  upon  him  he  slipped  and 
fell.  In  a  moment  the  foot  of  his  outraged  adversary 
was  on  his  breast  and  his  sword-point  at  his  heart. 

Then  came  to  Aner  the  thrilling  whisper,  the  flash 
of  burning  letters,  which  he  always  associated  with 
the  presence  of  Hatob.  '  Forgive  your  enemy  '  were 
the  words  he  seemed  to  hear,  and  the  letters  of  fire 
which  burned  upon  his  brain  were,  '  Whoso  sheddeth 
man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed.' 

He  stayed  his  arm  ;  he  removed  his  foot  from  the 
breast  of  his  prostrate  foe.  '  Go,'  he  said,  '  I  give  you 
your  life ; '  and,  taking  the  key  from  his  robe,  he  un- 
locked the  door. 

'  Murderer  !  '  hissed  Eutrapelos.  '  For  this  your 
head  shall  fall  on  the  scaffold.' 

He  turned  and  fled.  Aner  walked  to  the  divan 
where  Phaedra  lay  with  the  life-blood  ebbing  from  her 
wound.  He  tried  to  stanch  it ;  then  he  struck  a  blow 
on  a  great  gong,  and  Xenios  came,  the  faithful  steward 
whom  Hatob  had  chosen,  whose  advice  and  help  were 
always  wise  and  good. 


THE   LIFE   STOEY   OF   ANER  71 

'Attend  to  her,'  he  said,  pointing  to  Phaedra. 
'  Send  at  once  for  a  physician ;  send  also  for  a  minister 
of  justice.  It  was  my  sword  which  pierced  her,  though 
it  was  by  accident.' 

Xenios  summoned  Phaedra's  attendants.  Silent, 
astonished,  full  of  dreadful  surmises,  they  lifted  her 
apparently  lifeless  form,  and  carried  her  to  her  room. 
Aner,  his  head  resting  on  his  hands,  lost  in  anguish 
and  horror,  sat  motionless,  awaiting  the  summons  of 
justice. 

Two  archers  of  the  government  came  and  arrested 
him.  He  was  led  to  prison. 

In  a  few  days  his  trial  followed.  The  judge  told 
him  that  circumstances  looked  very  black  against  him. 
Phaedra  had  been  wounded  ;  she  still  lay  speechless  ;  her 
life  was  despaired  of.  It  was  known  that  he  was  on  the 
worst  terms  with  her,  and  that  their  quarrels  had  been 
frequent  and  violent.  He  had  been  found  alone  in  the 
room  where  she  fell,  his  sword  wet  with  blood.  There 
was  no  evidence  produced  in  favour  of  what  he  asserted 
about  the  fight  and  the  accident.  Evidence  less  damn- 
ing had  brought  many  a  man  to  the  scaffold.  '  Alas  !  ' 
added  the  compassionate  judge,  '  who  would  have 
dreamed  that  the  brilliant,  the  famous  Aner,  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  state,  would  ever  have  been  reduced  by 
his  vices  and  passions  to  a  position  so  disgraceful,  so 
deplorable  ?  But  the  man  who  deliberately  takes  his 
first  bad  step  soon  finds  that  his  path  is  on  the  edge 
of  a  precipice,  where  to  stop  still  is  impossible,  to 
retreat  is  ruin,  to  advance  is  destruction.  Justice 


72  ALLEGORIES 

walks  with  leaden  feet,  but  she  strikes  with  a  hand  of 
iron,  and  her  stroke  is  death.'  ] 

Aner,  too  stricken  and  too  hopeless  to  plead  his 
own  cause,  had  instructed  an  advocate  simply  to  tell 
his  unvarnished  tale.  He  disdained  to  use  either 
argument  or  appeal.  If  his  destiny  were  to  be  averted, 
it  should  be  by  the  simple  truth  ;  and  if  he  were  con- 
demned, what  could  death  be  except  a  merciful  release 
to  one  so  wretched  ? 

'  Have  you  any  witnesses  to  produce  ?  '  asked  the 
judge.  '  If  your  story  be  true,  surely  Eutrapelos  could 
be  found ;  and  at  least  some  one  must  have  seen 
him  enter  or  leave  your  house.' 

None  spoke  ;  none  pleaded  for  him ;  then  Xenios 
rose  and  asked  for  a  remand.  '  There  was  reason  to 
believe,'  he  said,  '  that  Eutrapelos  had  escaped  to  a 
distant  part  of  the  Purple  Island.' 

A  month's  remand  was  granted,  and  Aner  spent  it 
in  the  dreary  prison  cell.  Then  the  trial  was  resumed. 
It  was  proved  that  Eutrapelos,  accompanied  by  a  child, 
had  fled — proved  also  that  he  had  carried  with  him 
gold  and  jewels  from  the  house  of  Aner — but  he  had 
not  been  traced.  And  since  it  was  unquestioned  that 
Phaedra's  wound  had  been  inflicted  by  the  sword  of 
Aner,  it  seemed  inevitable  that  justice  should  be  left 
to  take  its  course. 

Amid  an  awful  hush  the  judge  had  assumed  the 
black  cap,  and  was  about  to  pass  sentence  of  death  on 

1  These  words  were  actually  addressed  by  an  eminent  judge  to  a  well- 
known  criminal. 


THE   LIFE    STOEY   OF   ANER  73 

Aner,  when  there  was  a  stir  at  the  door  of  the  court 
and  the  wasted  form  of  a  woman  was  carried  in  on  a 
litter. 

'  Who  is  this  ?  '  asked  the  judge. 

'  It  is  Phaedra,'  answered  Xenios,  '  who  is  called 
the  wife  of  Aner,  but  was  in  reality  the  wife  of 
Eutrapelos.  She  has  something  to  say.' 

The  couch  was  carried  between  the  judge's  chair 
and  the  dock  of  the  prisoner.  '  What  have  you  to  say  ? ' 
asked  the  judge  compassionately. 

She  raised  her  wan  hand,  and,  pointing  to  Aner, 
said,  amid  breathless  silence,  in  a  voice  scarcely 
audible : 

'  He  has  told  the  truth.  He  is  innocent.  I  have 
terribly  wronged  him.  I  ran  in  between  them.  He 
did  not  mean  to  hurt  me.  I  could  not  die  till  I  had 
told  the  truth  respecting  the  man  against  whom  I  have 
sinned  so  fearfully.' 

When  she  had  said  this  she  fainted  away  and  was 
carried  out.  That  night  she  died. 

The  judge  consulted  his  assessors.  The  intercepted 
letter  which  Eutrapelos  had  written  to  Phaedra  was 
produced ;  other  slightly  confirmatory  evidence  was 
brought  forward.  Letters  were  handed  into  court 
which  Phaedra  had  given  to  Xenios,  proving  that 
Eutrapelos  had  promised  to  be  with  her  in  the  armoury 
at  the  time  when  Aner  had  surprised  them,  and  had 
arranged  with  her  to  strip  the  house  of  every  portable 
treasure  and  to  fly  with  their  child. 

Aner   was    acquitted  and  discharged  from   prison. 


74  ALLEGORIES 

For  days  he  had  not  uttered  a  word.  He  stepped  forth 
a  ruined,  blighted,  haunted  man. 

The  faithful  Xenios  conducted  him  to  the  house 
which  it  would  now  have  been  an  irony  to  call  his 
home.  As  he  entered  the  hall  he  summoned  up  energy 
enough  to  say, '  Xenios,  I  have  lost  all.  Sell  this  house 
and  grounds  ;  sell  all  my  pictures  and  works  of  art ;  pay 
all  my  servants  and  discharge  my  debts.  When  this  is 
done,  let  me  know  ;  enough  may  still  be  over  to  support 
the  remainder  of  my  wretched  life  in  deep  seclusion.' 

'  Despair  not,  dear  master,'  said  Xenios.  '  Hatob 
bade  me  be  faithful  to  you,  and  I  will.  You  have  been 
a  kind  master  to  us  all.  I  will,  not  leave  you  in  your 
misfortunes.  Pardon  me  if  I  dare  tot  say  that  you 
need  some  one  to  watch  over  you.' 

'  I  know  what  you  mean,  Xenios ;  but  I  shall  be  far 
too  poor  to  pay  your  wages.' 

*  Think  not  of  it,  sir,'  said  Xenios.     '  I  have  enough.' 

Aner  was  touched  even  to  tears.  '  Is  there,'  he 
thought,  '  is  there,  after  all,  such  a  thing  in  the  Purple 
Island  as  one  disinterested  friend?  What  have  all 
my  mouth-friends  done  for  me  ?  Which  of  them  has 
helped  me  ?  Which  of  the  old  gay  companions  of  my 
youth  showed  anything  but  a  cruel  rejoicing  over  my 
fall  ?  Which  of  my  many  flatterers  held  out  a  hand  to 
help  me  ?  Ah,  me !  ah,  me !  Why  did  Elyon  make 
such  a  miserable  and  worthless  race  ?  Oh,  Hatob ! 
Hatob ! ' 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  cry  when  Hatob 
came. 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  75 

'  My  Aner,'  he  said,  '  my  Aner !  Oh,  I  am  glad 
that  you  have  summoned  me  again.' 

Aner  could  not  speak  ;  he  could  not  even  look  at 
Hatob ;  he  averted  his  head,  while  the  tears  coursed 
each  other  down  his  furrowed  face. 

'  Have  I  ever  misled  you,  Aner  ?  '  he  asked.  '  Has 
not  all  happened  as  the  King  Ely  on  warned  you  that 
it  would  ?  What  have  you  gained  by  giving  your  heart 
to  Hara  ?  Has  he  bestowed  upon  you  a  single  blessing  ? 
Has  he  in  one  thing  showed  himself  a  friend  ? ' 

Aner  shook  his  head. 

'All  is  lies,'  he  murmured,  'all  is  treachery,  all 
illusion,  all  wretchedness.' 

'Not  all,'  said  Hatob.  'When  Imrah  came  to 
the  Purple  Island  to  deliver  you  and  King  Elyon's 
other  sons,  you  know  what  they  made  him  suffer. 
But  did  he  despair?  And  was  his  life  of  love  less 
radiant,  less  lovely,  less  real  ?  What  has  reduced  you 
to  this  depth  of  misery  ?  ' 

'  It  is  the  bitter  fruit  of  those  things  of  which  I  am 
now  ashamed,  Hatob,'  said  Aner ;  '  but,  though  I  am 
ashamed  of  them,  their  poison  is  in  all  my  veins.  I  shall 
go  on  weakly  sinning  and  half  repenting  ;  loathing  what 
I  am,  yet  continuing  to  be  what  I  am  ;  loathing  what  I 
do,  yet  continuing  to  do  what  I  loathe,  till  death  ends 
my  misery,  or  begins  one  yet  more  awful.  Oh,  let  me 
curse  the  hour  which  called  me  into  existence ! ' 

Hatob  spoke  not,  yet  it  was  as  if  he  spoke,  for  Aner 
saw  glowing  before  him  the  words,  '  Lift  up  thine  eyes 
to  the  hills,  whence  cometh  thy  help.'  But  Hatob 


76  ALLEGOKIES 

let  Aner's  heart  go  sorrowing  through  all  the  guilty 
past : — from  such  shame  might  spring  holy  sorrow  and 
determined  resolution. 

'  Oh,  Aner,'  he  said  at  last,  '  I  send  the  faithful 
Xenios  with  you  to  watch  over  you,  lest  you  should 
again  relapse  into  drunkenness.  He  can  guard  your 
habits ;  only  Elyon  can  guard,  only  Imrah  heal,  only 
their  spirit  intercede  for  your  heart.  Hope  lasts  while 
life  lasts.  You  have  read  what  the  poet  says  : 

Man,  what  is  this  ?  and  why  art  thou  despairing  ? 
God  shall  forgive  thee  all  but  thy  despair.' 


XI 

He  would  have  spoke, 

But  hiss  for  hiss  returned  with  forked  tongue 
To  forked  tongue. — MILTON,  Paradise  Lost,  x.  536. 

HABA  again  visited  at  midnight  the  secret  grove  of 
Ashmod.  Hara  was  gnashing  his  teeth  with  vexation, 
and  Ashmod  was  in  a  savage  mood. 

'  What  are  we  to  do  now  ?  '  asked  Hara.  '  Again 
and  again  from  the  verge  of  destruction  Aner  is  snatched 
from  us.  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  escaped  after  all.' 

'  There  is  yet  a  chance  for  our  hatred  and  revenge,' 
said  Ashmod.  '  He  is  wounded  already,  deeply  wounded. 
We  will  track  him  down ;  he  shall  not  escape  us.' 

'  I  tried  the  imps  Flattery  and  Softness  on  his 
youth,'  said  Hara,  '  and  they  perverted  him  ;  I  tried 
the  plausible  fiends  of  Gold  and  Glitter  on  his  early  man- 


THE   LIFE   STORY  OF  ANER  77 

hood  and  he  was  entangled  by  them ;  I  tried  the  evil 
ghoul  of  Drink  and  he  hopelessly  succumbed ;  then  we 
agreed  to  try  Lilith,  the  demon  of  the  noonday,  and 
she  fettered  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  ours,  body  and 
soul.  When  she  failed,  I  suddenly  turned  the  fierce 
spirit  Eevenge  upon  him ;  but  he  forgave  his  enemy. 
All  our  emissaries  have  more  or  less  succeeded,  yet  he 
has  at  the  last  shaken  them  off.  He  has  been  des- 
perately wounded  in  the  house  of  these  his  friends,  yet 
at  this  last  moment,  after  all,  Hatob  is  beside  him  and 
the  spirit  of  Imrah,  our  worst  enemy,  is  wrestling  with 
him  to  deliver  him  from  me  and  from  his  lower  self. 
Had  we  not  better  give  him  up  and  hunt  other  game  ?  ' 

'  I  never  give  up  any  Porphyrian  till  he  dies,'  said 
Ashmod  ;  '  warfare  with  me  has  no  discharge.' 

*  Have  you  an  arrow  left  unbroken  in  your  quiver  ? 
have  you  yet  a  demon  whom  he  cannot  conquer  ?  The 
others,  all  but  the  drink-ghoul,  have  given  him  up ; 
and  from  him,  as  you  know,  there  is  an  easy  protection 
which  he  has  tried  before,  and  probably  will  again.' 

'  I  have  one  potent  fiend  more,'  said  Ashmod. 

'  Male,  or  female  this  time  ? '  asked  Hara. 

'  Female.' 

'  Her  name  ? ' 

'  Akedia,  the  spirit  of  moping  melancholy  and  utter 
weariness  of  life.' 

Hara  clapped  his  hands.  *  I  know  her ;  she  fre- 
quents the  tombs  of  the  lost.  She  is  death  in  life. 
Her  home  is  in  the  waste  places,  fertile  in  sorrow.  She 
lives  in  darkness  which  may  be  felt.  She  fills  houses 


78  ALLEGORIES 

with  the  sound  of  ghostly  footfalls  which  approach  at 
midnight.  She  can  summon  spectre  after  spectre,  gaunt 
and  grey,  to  stare  on  haunted  men  with  hollow  eyes. 
She  can  become  a  fury,  scattering  dust  and  ashes  over 
the  blighted  garden  of  human  lives.  She  is  own  sister 
to  Mania,  and  at  last,  in  many  an  instance,  hands  over 
her  victims  to  her  brother,  the  demon  of  Suicide ; — and 
then  we  triumph.' 

'Yes/  said  Ashmod,  'and  never  was  a  soul  more 
ready  to  be  her  prey  than  that  of  Aner.  In  any  case  it 
is  something  that  we  have  made  him  grieve  the  heart 
of  Imrah,  and  have  marred  the  plans  of  our  enemy 
Elyon.' 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  thunder  crashed  over 
the  dark  grove.  A  thunderbolt  smote  from  its  pedestal 
and  shattered  on  the  black  marble  floor  a  monstrous 
idol.  With  a  yell  Ashmod  leapt  quaking  from  his 
throne,  while  Hara  crouched  down  and  hid  himself 
from  the  intolerable  blaze  behind  the  fragments  of  the 
idol,  and  in  that  fierce  illumination  he  saw  demons 
clinging  together  in  their  fright.  The  grim  temple 
was  filled  with  sulphurous  fumes,  and  the  fiends 
trembled  lest  another  bolt  from  heaven  should  bury 
them  in  its  ruins. 

But  Ashmod  soon  recovered  from  his  terror ;  and 
next  morning  Akedia  glided  forth,  robed  in  tattered  and 
dismal  grey,  to  hide  herself  in  Aner's  dwelling  and  fill 
it  with  gibbering  ghosts.  She  glided  in  unseen,  but  as 
she  entered  he  felt  a  deadly  chill  congeal  his  heart. 


79 


AKEDIA   GLIDED    FORTH 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  81 


XII 

Oh  that  this  too  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 

Thaw  and  dissolve  itself  into  a  dew, 

Or  that  the  Everlasting  had  not  placed 

His  canon  'gainst  self-slaughter. — Hamlet,  Act  i.  Sc.  2. 

ANER  had  turned  his  back  upon  the  world  of  ingratitude 
and  disappointment,  of  mocking  illusions  and  hollow 
hopes.  He  had  chosen  for  his  abode  a  cottage  upon  the 
lovely  shore  of  the  Purple  Island,  near  a  humble  fishing 
village  called  Klydon.  Except  Xenios,  no  one  was  with 
him.  His  riches  had  made  themselves  wings  and  flown 
away.  His  mental  gifts,  devoted  mainly  to  self-interest, 
had  produced  little  that  was  not  futile.  His  fame  had 
vanished  like  the  gleams  of  a  meteor  in  the  darkness. 
He  had  found  that  '  smoke  and  lukewarm  water '  was 
the  perfection  of  friendships  based  only  on  the  lowest 
affinities.  His  pleasures  had  been  as  the  fragrance  of 
a  fruit  whose  taste  is  poison,  the  glitter  of  a  serpent 
whose  sting  is  death.  He  had  worshipped  the  idol, 
self,  and  now  '  the  dead  idol  stretched  out  its  withered 
hand  to  a  miserable  worshipper  who  had  nothing  more 
to  give.' 

He  gave  himself  up  to  misery.  He  could  not  rouse 
himself  to  seek  the  grace  which  could  alone  redeem  the 
useless  perversion  of  his  life.  The  thoughts  of  King 
Elyon  had  been  dimmed  within  him  almost  to  oblitera- 
tion. Xenios  had  purposely  saved  from  the  dispersion 
of  his  pictures  one  which  represented  Imrah,  as  the 
Good  Shepherd,  seated  wearily  in  the  stony  wilderness 


82  ALLEGORIES 

whither  he  had  followed  a  young  strayed  lamb.  The 
Fair  Shepherd  had  taken  it  in  his  arms,  and  was 
nourishing  it  in  his  bosom,  and  underneath  was  written  : 

I  did  all  this  for  thee  : 
What  wilt  thou  do  for  me  ? 

Aner  looked  at  it  sometimes,  for  it  was  beautiful  as  a 
work  of  art ;  but  if  it  suggested  anything  to  him,  he 
put  the  thought  away.  Everything  seemed  to  him  too 
late.  The  fatal  shadows  of  his  past  sins  walked  with 
him  like  evil  angels.  He  had  reached  'that  most 
disastrous  page  in  the  volume  of  life  on  which  is 
inscribed  the  words,  "Gratified  desires."  All  that 
followed  was  first  disenchantment,  then  ruin,  and 
now  a  ghastly  blank.  His  youth  had  vanished  like 
morning  dew,  and  he  was  possessing  its  iniquities. 
His  beauty  had  consumed  away,  like  a  moth  fretting  a 
garment.  He  had  often  regarded  as  commonplace  the 
age-long  cries  of  human  satiety  and  human  disappoint- 
ment. Now  he  felt  their  meaning  with  all  the 
agonising  intensity  of  personal  experience.  To  him 

Time  was 

a  maniac  scattering  dust, 

And  Life  a  fury  slinging  flame. 

He  knew  now  that  life  which  once  looked  so  full  of 
meaning  and  blessedness  could  become  no  better  than 

A  tale 

Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 

He  had  books — but  of  what  use  was  it  any  longer 
to  read  ?  what  could  books  bring  him  ?  Much  reading 


THE   LIFE    STORY   OF  ANER  88 

became  to  him  but  a  weariness  of  the  flesh.  He  had 
no  employment,  no  aim  in  life.  He  had  no  friends 
except  Xenios,  who,  though  true  and  kind,  could  not 
share  his  thoughts.  He  seemed  to  have  sunk  out  of 
life  before  his  time.  Of  what  use  was  life  ?  of  what 
use  was  anything?  He  was  haunted  by  memories, 
and  the  sense  of  enormous  loss.  Akedia  was  get- 
ting possession  of  him,  heart  and  soul.  The  whole 
philosophy  of  life's  experience  seemed  to  him  to  be 
summed  up  in  the  cry  of  thrice-doubled  emptiness  - 
*  Vanity  of  vanities,'  saith  the  Preacher,  '  vanity  of 
vanities,  all  is  vanity.' 

If  he  could  have  plucked  up  courage  to  summon 
Hatob  to  his  side  for  counsel  and  consultation,  all 
might  have  been  well ;  but  had  he  not  struck  Hatob  ? 
had  he  not  cursed  him,  and  driven  him  from  his 
presence  ?  would  Hatob  care  for  the  withered  leaves  of 
so  dead  a  flower  as  his  friendship  now  ?  And  how  could 
he  call  for  help  to  King  Ely  on  ?  If  he  was  King  Elyon's 
son,  had  not  Elyon  long  ago  despised  and  rejected  him  ? 
would  he  not  spurn  him  from  his  presence  as  a  dis- 
owned and  disinherited  rebel,  fit  only  for  Ashmod's 
den  ?  If  he  had  offered  to  his  high  Father,  as  a  flower 
in  the  bud,  his  early  years,  that  would  have  been  an 
acceptable  sacrifice  ;  but  who  could  care  for  the  gift  of 
flaccid  leaves  and  broken  stalks  ?  Alas  !  do  not 

Lilies  that  fester  smell  more  rank  than  weeds  ? 

Yet  Hatob  did  not  really  desert  him.  The  flash, 
the  whisper,  which  betokened  Hatob 's  care  for  him, 

G  2 


8i  ALLEGORIES 

came  to  him  again  and  again.  It  was  Hatob's  hand 
alone  which  seemed  to  pluck  him  back  from  the  edge 
of  the  precipice.  It  was  Hatob  who,  amid  his  musings 
of  despair,  suggested  to  him  the  possibility  of  hope  by 
recalling  to  his  mind  at  one  time  such  a  thought  as 

'  0  Israel,  thou  hast  destroyed  thyself ;  but  in  me 
is  thy  help ;  ' 
and,  at  another, 

'  If  any  man  sin,  it  shall  be  forgiven  him.' 

But  if,  for  a  moment,  the  letters  gleamed  before 
his  imagination,  too  soon  the  waves  of  a  sea  of  darkness 
seemed  to  overflow  them,  and  the  roar  of  its  devour- 
ing billows  drowned  the  still  small  voice.  The  ocean 
shore  which  was  the  favourite  scene  of  his  lonely 
wanderings  tended  to  deepen  his  melancholy.  The 
broad  waste  of  wandering  foam  with  its  ebb  and  flow, 
its  meaningless  unending  murmur,  its  illimitable  and 
briny  barrenness,  the  aimless  and  endless  plashing  of 
its  ineffectual  surge — was  it  not  an  emblem  of  his 
futile  life  ? 

And  now  Akedia  had  so  thoroughly  succeeded  in 
making  all  the  uses  of  the  wrorld  seem  to  Aner  to  be 
weary,  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable,  that  Hara  was 
eagerly  awaiting  his  final  success.  When  Akedia's 
task  was  ended,  she  would  hand  over  Aner  to  her 
brother,  the  fiend  of  Suicide,  and  the  Purple  Island 
would  know  him  no  more.  So  Hara  visited  him ;  pre- 
tended to  condole  with  him  ;  heard,  and  echoed,  and 
heightened  all  his  complaints,  that  his  life  was  a 
dreary  and  useless  burden.  Then  in  a  tone  of 


THE    LIFE    STORY   OF   ANER  85 

hypocritical  sympathy,  painting  all  things  even  worse 
than  they  were,  Hara  threw  out  hints  about  death, 
which  he  described  as  a  peace  which  could  never  more 
be  broken,  a  calm  refuge,  a  stormless  haven,  a  dreamless 
and  eternal  sleep. 

And  just  as  Hatob  often  tried  to  influence  Aner's 
mind  by  mentally  emphasising  to  him  all  the  best 
and  noblest  truths  which  he  had  ever  read,  which  he 
carried  in  his  retentive  memory,  so  Hara  had  a  way  of 
making  such  lines  as  these  ring  in  his  brain  : 

My  wine  of  life  is  poison  mixed  with  gall, 
My  noonday  passes  in  a  nightmare  dream  ; 

I  worse  than  lose  the  years  which  are  my  all : 
What  can  console  me  for  the  loss  supreme  ? 

Thus,  over  and  over  again,  Aner  was  tempted  to 
self-murder.  How  could  he  go  on  enduring — week 
after  week,  month  after  month — these  futile  yesterdays 
and  wearisome  to-morrows  ?  Of  what  use  was  it  for 
him,  or  for  any  one  else,  to  groan  every  morning, 
'  Would  God  it  were  evening !  '  and  every  evening, 
1  Would  God  it  were  morning  !  '  The  watchful  solici- 
tude of  Xenios  had  prevented  him  from  taking  refuge  in 
drink,  and  so  striving  '  to  steep  his  senses  in  forgetful- 
ness  ; '  but  now  Xenios  had  constantly  to  watch  him  lest 
he  should  seek  opportunities  for  suicide.  He  carefully 
moved  out  of  Aner's  way  everything  which  might 
tempt  him  to  a  dangerous  onslaught  upon  his  own 
existence. 

But  one  day  when  Aner  was  aimlessly  turning  out 
the  contents  of  some  old  boxes,  filled  with  the  relics  of 


86  ALLEGORIES 

his  sold  possessions,,  he  found  something  which  might 
have  fetched  a  price,  but  had  been  accidentally  over- 
looked. It  was  a  dagger  with  fine  point,  double-edged  ; 
its  handle  set  with  jewels.  Xenios  evidently  did  not 
know  that  it  was  there.  Aner  positively  clutched  at  it 
and  hid  it  in  his  robe. 

And  now  the  dagger  constantly  appealed  to  him  ; 
floated  before  his  eyes  in  his  sleeplessness ;  shone 
before  him  at  night  as  with  a  supernatural  glitter ; 
seemed  to  offer  its  jewels  to  his  hand  when  he  felt  it 
beneath  his  dress  where  he  always  wore  it.  It  became 
like  a  thing  alive  ;  there  seemed  to  be  something  devilish 
in  its  fascination.  The  Evil  One  was  upon  him  !  He 
would  struggle  no  longer ;  he  would  end  it  all ! 

He  wandered  away  along  the  desolate  shore.  The 
village  of  Klydon,  near  which  was  his  cottage,  did  not 
number  more  than  a  thousand  inhabitants.  They  were 
all  peasants,  for  the  most  part  poor  fishing  people. 
He  rarely  walked  in  that  direction.  He  preferred  the 
sand-dunes  with  their  bright  green  shrubs,  and  the 
yellow  sands,  and  the  great  rocks  and  caverns.  Often 
in  stormy  weather  he  would  watch  the  billows  lash- 
ing themselves  upon  the  rocks  of  the  headlands,  and 
falling  back  baffled  in  sheets  of  spray,  only  to  come  wildly 
leaping  up  once  more,  to  be  again  shattered  by  the 
same  fate.  Were  they  not  an  emblem  of  man's 
defeated  life — at  any  rate  of  his  own  ?  Did  they  not 

furnish  a  living  picture  of 

the  strife 

Of  poor  humanity's  afflicted  will, 
Struggling  in  vain  with  ruthless  destiny  ? 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  87 

And  those  ever-hungry  sea-birds  which  waved  their 
white  wings  above  the  crawling  ripples  beyond,  was 
not  their  plaintive  cry  like  an  unceasing  dirge,  wailed 
over  the  salt  unplumbed  sea  of  life  ? 

Sometimes,  when  Aner  desired  to  be  if  possible 
more  lonely  still,  he  would  plunge  into  one  of  the  wild 
glens  down  which  mountain  streams  forced  their  rock- 
impeded  course  to  the  sea,  where  the  cormorants  built 
their  nests,  and  over  which,  in  search  of  prey,  the 
eagles  poised  themselves  on  seemingly  motionless 
pinions,  or  sailed  in  majestic  slowness  through  the 
azure  air. 

Into  one  of  these  glens  he  wandered  on  this 
oppressive  afternoon,  thinking  in  his  heart  that  it 
would  be  a  fitting  scene  for  the  deed  he  meditated.  He 
said  to  himself  that  in  so  rarely  visited  a  nook  his  body 
might  lie  undiscovered  for  days,  till  the  ravens  had 
picked  out  the  eyes,  and  the  gorged  vultures  had  napped 
heavily  away  from  the  torn  flesh,  and  the  wolves  and 
the  wild  dogs  ceased  to  snarl  over  the  white  bones. 

Again  the  flash,  the  thrill,  the  whisper !  If  there 
was  one  thing  about  which  Aner  had  prided  himself 
more  than  another,  it  was  that  he  was  a  brave  man ; 
but  now  the  words  gleamed  before  him,  and  the  voice 
whispered  to  him : 

When  all  the  blandishments  from  life  are  gone, 
The  coward  slinks  to  death,  the  brave  live  on. 

It  was  in  vain  !  '  Barren  verbiage,'  he  exclaimed  to 
himself ;  '  unprofitable  morality.  It  may  do  for  the 


88  ALLEGORIES 

innocent  and  the  happy.  What  can  it  mean  for  me  ? 
What  profit  is  there  in  a  doomed  and  bootless  life  ?  ' 

'  Why  need  it  be  bootless  ?  '  flashed  the  question. 
1  Because/  he  answered  to  himself,  *  its  gifts  have  all 
been  squandered,  its  opportunities  all  thrown  to  the 
winds,  its  beauty  is  consumed  away  in  the  sepulchre  out 
of  his  dwelling.  All  over  my  life  has  been  written  the 
doom,  "  self-destroyed."  I  cannot  face  this  misery  any 
longer.  If  death  be  but  a  change  from  monotonous 
anguish,  let  the  irrevocable  come.' 

He  was  on  the  point  of  accomplishing  his  fell 
purpose,  when  a  youth,  who  had  been  fishing  in  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  stream,  passed  by  him,  touched 
his  cap  and  bade  him  'good-day.' 

It  was  but  a  momentary  interruption.  '  He  'bade  me 
good-day,'  said  Aner  to  himself  ;  'it  is  an  utterly  evil  day 
for  me.'  And  he  murmured  to  himself  the  lines  : 

'  What  is  good  for  a  bootless  "  bene  "  ?  ' 

The  forester  to  the  lady  said. 
And  she  made  answer,  '  Endless  sorrow,' 
For  she  knew  that  her  son  was  dead. 

'  Yes,  she  knew  that  her  only  son  was  dead,  and  I 
know  that  for  me  every  conceivable  hope  is  dead  and 
buried  under  unfathomable  seas.' 

He  waited  till  the  youth's  figure  had  disappeared 
among  the  windings  of  the  glen,  and  then  resumed  his 
interrupted  purpose. 

He  drew  out  the  dagger  from  the  folds  of  his  robe. 
The  sun  flashed  on  it ;  the  light  ran  and  played  about 
the  jewels  of  the  hilt ;  it  looked  lovely  to  him  ;  he 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  89 

kissed  it.  And  Hara's  words  came  back  to  him  as 
though  Hara  himself  had  said  them  in  his  ear : 
'  Death  is  a  calm  refuge,  a  stormless  haven,  a  dream- 
less and  eternal  sleep.' 

He  raised  the  dagger  in  the  air ;  it  flamed  before 
him  in  the  sunlight ;  one  instant  more,  it  should  be 
buried  in  his  heart,  and  all  would  be  over.  He  did  not 
fear  the  force  or  certainty  of  his  own  strong  stroke. 

And  even  at  the  moment  when  his  arm  was  raised 
to  strike,  and  his  destiny  trembled  in  the  balance,  and 
Ashmod  and  Hara  were  watching  him  from  a  cavern 
hard  by  with  a  fiendish  leer  upon  their  faces — even  at 
that  moment  he  was  startled  by  a  cry  of  terror. 

Xenios  had  two  children  :  one,  a  boy  of  ten  years 
old,  named  Krates,  a  brave,  adventurous  little  fellow, 
who  feared  nothing ;  the  other,  named  Philos,  a 
lovely  child  of  six.  Aner  had  often  noticed  them 
playing  at  no  great  distance  from  him  on  the  shore, 
sometimes  alone,  sometimes  with  other  comrades.  But, 
though  he  had  always  been  fond  of  children,  he  had 
never  shown  any  kindness  to  them.  This  disinclination 
to  take  the  least  notice  of  his  little  boys  was  a  cause  of 
disappointment  to  their  father,  who  hoped  that  their 
mirth  and  innocent  prattle  might  sometimes  have 
cheered  his  master's  moody  thoughts.  Aner,  however, 
had  thought  to  himself,  '  I  have  nothing  in  common 
with  children  now.  Why  should  my  soiled  unhappy 
life  be  like  a  clouding  blight  on  the  blossom  of  their 
young  days  ?  They  would  instinctively  shun  me ;  I 
should  but  quench  their  laughter  and  spoil  their  games.' 


90  ALLEGOEIES 

The  children,  however,  in  their  adventurous  rambles 
often  liked  to  be  near  Aner.  They  felt  a  man's  pre- 
sence to  be  a  protection  to  them  amid  possible  and 
unknown  perils ;  and  their  father  and  mother  rather 
encouraged  them  to  run  and  play  in  the  direction  he 
had  taken,  as  it  made  them  feel  less  anxiety  in  case  the 
children  should  fall  into  any  danger. 

The  little  boys  never  obtruded  themselves  on  the 
notice  of  the  sad  and  solitary  wanderer  ;  but  this  day 
also  they  had  followed  his  steps  unobserved,  and  had 
been  delighted  to  see  him  turn  into  the  glen,  which— 
since  wild  creatures  were  said  sometimes  to  haunt  its 
caverns — had  for  them  a  certain  glamour  of  fearful 
mystery,  such  as  they  would  not  have  dared  to  face 
alone. 

Though  he  did  not  know  it,  they  had  been  within 
a  stone's  throw  of  him  when  he  had  flashed  his  dagger 
in  the  sun.  Strolling  hand  in  hand  behind  him,  un- 
heard, unnoticed,  they  had  entered  a  cave  hard  by, 
to  look  for  the  crimson  and  purple  sea-anemones  which 
gleamed  like  flowers  round  its  still  pools.  But  they  had 
only  advanced  a  few  steps  into  its  entrance  when  they 
saw  the  green  eyes  of  a  wolf  glaring  through  the  dark- 
ness. They  turned  and  fled  with  screams  of  terror ;  and 
the  gaunt  grey  wolf,  whose  midday  slumber  had  been 
disturbed  by  the  sound  of  their  voices,  first  lazily  shook 
himself,  then  showed  his  white  teeth  and  snarled,  then 
made  a  bound  towards  them.  There  was  a  huge  rock 
by  the  cave's  mouth,  behind  which  they  ran  to  hide 
themselves ;  but  the  wolf  came  sniffing  round  it — and  it 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  91 

was  at  this  moment  that  they  raised  the  second  cry  of 
fear,  startlingly  close  to  him,  which  had  arrested  the 
uplifted  dagger  of  Aner. 

A  glance  showed  him  the  situation,  and  showed 
him  further  that,  without  assistance,  one  of  those 
fair  children  could  hardly  fail  to  fall  a  victim  to  the 
monster's  teeth. 

The  shout  which  he  raised  seemed  to  him  both 
involuntary  and  of  quite  preternatural  strength.  It 
arrested  and  frightened  the  wolf ;  and  Aner,  stooping  to 
the  ground,  hurled  at  it  a  mass  of  rock  which  lay  at  his 
feet;  and  again  seemed  to  himself  to  have  hurled  it 
with  strange  force  and  certainty  of  aim.  It  smote 
the  wolf  on  the  head,  and  brought  him  half-stunned 
to  the  earth.  Then  Aner — his  dagger  ready  to  his 
grasp — sprang  forward,  and  with  a  rush  reached  the 
creature's  prostrate  body,  which  was  still  convulsed 
with  fierce  spasms.  The  dagger  gleamed  in  the  hot 
sunlight,  and  then  was  dimmed  in  the  wolf's  blood,  as 
Aner  with  strong  thrusts  pierced  it  again  and  again,  till 
it  gave  one  last  spasm  and  was  dead. 

The  rescue  took  but  one  or  two  moments,  and 
the  boys  watched  it  as  if  magnetised.  When  they 
saw  that  the  wolf  was  dead,  the  younger  child  flew  to 
Aner,  flung  his  little  arms  round  his  neck,  kissed  him 
again  and  again,  and  lisped,  '  You  a  good  man  !  you  a 
dear  man  !  you  saved  us  from,  the  horrid  wolf.' 

'  But  you  had  a  very  narrow  escape,  my  child,'  said 
Aner;  and,  moved  by  the  child's  gratitude,  and  the 
touch  of  the  soft  little  hands  upon  his  neck,  and  the 


92  ALLEGORIES 

sweet  rosy  cheek  against  his  own,   he  felt  the  tears 
course  each  other  down  his  face. 

'  Don't  cry !  don't  cry !  '  said  the  child,  still 
caressing  him.  '  We  safe  now ;  you  a  good  man,  a 
dear  man ! ' 

The  elder  boy  came  to  him  more  shyly,  but  took 
his  hand,  and  looked  up  into  his  eyes  and  thanked 
him.  '  But  for  you,  sir,'  he  said,  '  the  wolf  would  have 
killed  us  both.'  The  boy  looked  at  the  monster's 
hideous  carcase  and  shuddered.  '  May  we  come  home 
with  you  ?  '  he  asked. 

1  Do,  my  boy,'  said  Aner,  for  he  saw  that  the 
children  were  still  in  a  state  of  terror  from  their  recent 
danger. 

'  And  will  you  carry  me  ?  '  said  the  little  boy. 
Aner,  surprised  at  himself,  took  up  the  little  prattler 
on  his  arm,   while   the  elder   brother  held   his  other 
hand. 

From  the  door  of  the  cottage  the  wife  of  Xenios 
saw  them  coming  along  the  sands. 
'  Xenios,'  she  cried,  '  look  !  ' 

'  What  is  it  ?  '  said  Xenios,  '  an  earthquake  or  an 
eclipse  ?  ' 

'  Only  look ! '  said  his  wife ;  and  when  Xenios 
saw  Aner  with  the  arms  of  one  rosy  child  round  his 
neck,  and  leading  the  other  by  the  hand,  he  was  no  less 
glad  and  astonished  than  his  wife — the  more  so  because 
the  oppressed  and  solitary  man  seemed  to  be  in  animated 
conversation  with  both  of  his  young  companions. 

Aner   felt   a   little  embarrassed  when  he    saw  the 


THE   LIFE    STOKY   OF   ANER  93 

parents  watching  this  unexpected  development ;  but 
when  the  children  caught  sight  of  them  Krates  ran 
forward,  and  little  Philos  wanted  to  be  put  dowrn 
to  tell  them  the  wonderful  news.  The  story  of  the 
wolf  was  narrated  in  a  perfect  rush  of  words  by  both 
the  children,  and  the  father  and  mother  thanked  Aner 
with  a  transport  of  gratitude. 

'  Will  you  take  my  dagger,  Xenios,  and  clean  it  for 
me  ?  '  said  Aner.  '  It  is  red  and  clotted  with  the  wolf's 
blood ;  and — I  think,  Xenios — you  had  better  keep  it 
for  me.' 

'  I  will,  sir,'  said  Xenios  gravely.  'I  did  not  know 
that  you  possessed  it,  but  you  have  made  noble  use 
of  it.' 

'  I  found  it  a  week  or  two  ago,'  said  Aner,  in  a 
rather  guilty  and  conscious  tone  ;  '  but  I  don't  want  it.' 
He  left  the  happy  parents  and  the  happy  boys,  and — 
preserved  from  a  yet  worse  danger  than  they — he  flung 
himself  face  downwards  on  the  ground  to  deplore  with 
tears  of  shame  and  penitence  his  purpose  of  self-murder, 
and  to  give  thanks  that  he  had  been  permitted  to  do  a 
blessed  deed. 

And  when  he  slept  he  dreamed  that  his  radiant 
brethren  from  Elyon's  palace  tuned  for  him  their  golden 
harps,  and  sang  their  brightest  melodies  ;  and  that 
Imrah  himself  looked  gently  down  on  him,  and  said  in 
a  voice  of  benediction  : 

'  Aner,  live  for  others  ! ' 


94  ALLEGORIES 


XIII 
A  MAN  WHO  LIVED  FOR  MEN 

My  own  hope  is  a  sun  shall  pierce 

The  thickest  cloud  earth  ever  stretched ; 

That  after  last  returns  the  first, 

Though  a  wide  compass  round  be  stretched ; 

That  what  began  best  can't  end  worst, 

Nor  what  God  blessed  once  prove  accurst. — BROWNING. 

NEXT  morning  little  Philos  came  into  his  room, 
climbed  upon  his  bed,  and  kissed  him.  And  when  he 
came  down,  nothing  would  content  the  children  but 
that  he  should  promise  in  the  afternoon  to  have  a 
game  of  play  with  them.  They  had  summoned  their 
little  comrades  from  the  village  and  insisted  on  his 
re-enacting  the  whole  adventure  of  the  wolf.  The 
biggest  boy  in  the  school  was  to  act  the  wolf,  and 
Aner  with  imaginary  fierceness  had  to  stun  him  with 
an  invisible  stone,  and  despatch  him  with  an  imaginary 
dagger.  Then  he  had  to  tell  them  stories,  and  devise 
games  for  them,  and  join  in  their  games ;  and  the 
tender  winning  arts  of  Philos  and  the  other  little 
ones  softened  and  brightened  him,  and  charmed  away 
his  sullen  wrath  and  melancholy.  Gradually  he  grew 
to  love  them  all  as  though  they  were  his  own  children, 
and  to  consider  all  their  interests.  Seeing  their  many 
disadvantages  and  limitations,  he  longed  to  elevate 
and  brighten  their  poor  little  lives ;  and  it  happened 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  95 

to  him  at  this  time  that  he  received  an  unexpected 
increment  from  the  wreck  of  his  fortunes,  which 
placed  means  at  his  command. 

Akedia  stole  back  discomfited  to  the  shrine  of 
Ashmod.  As  she  left  the  threshold  Aner  felt  his  heart 
grow  sensibly  more  warm. 

'  Why  are  you  leaving  him  ? '  asked  Hara,  who 
met  the  grey  spectre  as  she  slunk  through  the  twilight. 

'  He  is  surrounded  by  merry  and  innocent  children,' 
she  answered.  '  My  chance  is  gone.' 

Step  by  step  Aner  became  absorbed  in  the  en- 
deavour to  help  the  village  children.  He  built  them 
a  school  and  a  gymnasium.  He  paid  an  excellent 
teacher  to  give  them  wise  and  healthful  education  for 
their  minds,  and  a  young  athlete  to  train  their  bodies. 
He  next  founded  for  them  a  humble  technical  school 
in  which  they  were  taught  the  elements  of  arts  and 
crafts ; — so  that  in  a  very  few  years  the  boys  and  girls 
of  this  village  became  famed  for  their  usefulness  and 
good  training,  and  obtained  employment  in  the  Purple 
Island  far  more  readily  than  they  would  otherwise 
have  done. 

One  day  a  little  fellow  took  him  to  see  his  sick 
father.  Aner  not  only  helped  and  comforted  the  suffer- 
ing fisherman,  but,  using  the  skill  and  information  he 
possessed,  hastened  his  complete  recovery.  He  won 
such  a  reputation  for  wisdom  that  the  poor  population 
began  to  consult  him  for  all  their  needs.  He  became 
the  helper,  the  adviser,  the  physician,  the  arbiter 
of  the  villagers.  He  was  constantly  studying  their 


96  ALLEGORIES 

happiness.  He  procured  for  them  seeds  and  flowers, 
and  fruit  trees,  and  encouraged  them  to  sow  and 
plant,  until  the  seaside  village  became  .famous  for  its 
fertile  orchards  and  redolent  with  blossoming  gardens. 
He  had  a  sheltered  harbour  built  for  them,  so  well 
planned  that  it  became  available  for  miles  along  the 
rockbound  coast  and  saved  the  fishermen  from  many 
a  peril  of  the  sea.  When  the  ear  heard  him  it  blessed 
him,  and  when  the  eye  saw  him  it  gave  witness  to 
him. 

But,  while  all  were  grateful  to  him,  it  was  always 
with  the  children  that  he  continued  to  be  the  prime 
favourite,  and  they  were  nearest  and  dearest  to  his 
heart.  During  the  time  which  these  works  occupied 
he  was  very  happy — far  happier  than  he  had  ever  been 
before.  The  words  of  Imrah,  '  Aner  !  live  for  others  !  ' 
acted  on  him  as  a  perpetual  incentive  and  encourage- 
ment. He  was  amazed  to  find  how  deep  was  the 
blessedness  of  doing  good.  He  had  become  cynical 
about  human  nature  in  former  days,  and  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  was  in  the  world  no  dis- 
interestedness, no  gratitude.  But  now  he  found  it  quite 
otherwise.  The  best  qualities  of  those  around  him  ex- 
panded into  fragrance  as  a  flower  unfolds  its  bloom  to  the 
summer  sunlight.  Not  a  boy  or  girl  in  Klydon  who 
did  not  love  him.  The  children  welcomed  his  presence 
with  a  shout  of  joy  whenever  he  came  among  them. 
They  seemed  to  be  weaving  round  his  heart  the  fresh 
garlands  of  their  young  gladness.  And  now,  to  his 
great  joy,  Hatob  was  constantly  with  him,  truest  of 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF   ANER  97 

his  counsellors,  dearest  of  his  friends ;  and  Hara  rarely 
came  near  him,  though  sometimes  he  saw  his  disfigured 
face  scowl  upon  him  from  a  distance.  Once  or  twice 
when  Hara  visited  him  with  cynical  sneers  and  dis- 
paraging suggestions,  calling  his  life  'provincial  and 
commonplace  and  goody-good,'  and  trying  to  tempt  him 
back  to  the  world  and  to  Ashmod,  Aner  would  break 
away  from  him  and  call  for  Hatob,  or  would  secretly 
entreat  Ely  on  to  send  him  help  ; — and  then  Hara  always 
turned  away  and  left  him. 

And  he  felt  one  new  source  of  infinite  help  and 
comfort  in  the  fact  that  the  sapphire  ring,  which  for 
many  a  long  day  had  been  of  a  deathful  white,  now 
began  to  glow  once  more — faintly  at  first,  but  with 
ever-increasing  brightness — with  the  blue  of  heaven. 

His  benefactions  had  now  been  so  wise,  so  large, 
and  so  eminently  helpful,  that  with  the  aid  of  what  he 
had  recovered  from  his  wealth  he  had  completely  uplifted 
into  prosperity  the  fortunes  of  the  village.  The  chief 
inhabitants  combined  in  a  plan  to  rear  for  him  a 
memorial  of  their  gratitude,  in  the  form  of  a  statue, 
under  which  were  to  be  carved  the  words : 

'TO   ANER   THE   GOOD.' 

When  Aner  heard  of  it  he  summoned  them  all  to  meet 
him.  He  thanked  them,  but  begged  that  they  would 
give  him  no  such  title.  He  was  more  than  repaid  by 
their  affection.  They  had  alluded  to  all  which  he  had 
tried  to  do  for  their  children  who  were  present ;  but 
'  Oh,  my  children,'  he  said — and  his  eyes  grew  dim  as 

H 


98  ALLEGORIES 

he  spoke — '  I  ask  no  other  reward  than  that  you  should 
lift  for  me  your  little  white  hands  to  Elyon  and  cry, 
"0  King,  be  merciful  to  thy  poor  servant  Aner." 
And  you,  my  friends,'  he  said,  'have  contributed  your 
money  to  raise  me  a  statue.  I  deserve  no  statue.  I  desire 
no  statue.  It  would  only  cause  me  pain.  Spend  the 
money  on  a  little  beacon  light,  to  be  kindled  on  every 
dark  and  stormy  night  upon  yonder  jutting  headland. 
There  has  been  many  a  shipwreck  there.  If  there 
had  been  a  beacon,  some  poor  vessel  might  have  been 
saved.' 

They  agreed  to  do  this  ;  and  then,  as  had  been 
preconcerted,  the  children  came  up  with  wreaths  and 
flowers  for  Aner.  The  chair  on  which  he  sat  was 
heaped  around  with  presents,  and  his  heart  was  very 
full.  It  became  almost  too  full  when  the  sturdy  Krates 
led  the  boys  in  three  mighty  cheers  for  him,  which 
multiplied  themselves  many  times,  and  when  Philos, 
who  had  long  been  the  child  of  his  heart,  took  his 
hand,  and  sang  in  his  sweet  voice  a  song  which  had 
been  written  in  his  praise. 

When  all  the  rest  joined  in  the  chorus,  and  the  air 
thrilled  with  the  intense  sincerity  of  many  voices,  Aner 
had  to  hide  his  face  in  his  hands  that  they  might  not 
see  his  tears. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  99 


XIV 
A  MAN  WHO  DIED  FOR  MEN 

*  You  would  not  let  your  little  finger  ache 
•    For  such  as  these  ! '     '  But  I  would  die  ! '  she  said. 

TENNYSON. 

THE  turret  which  was  to  bear  on  its  summit  the 
beacon  light  was  begun  at  once ;  but  before  it 
could  be  finished  there  occurred  one  of  the  terrific 
storms  which  thundered  for  leagues  along  that  iron 
coast.  The  villagers  were  roused  by  the  news  that  a 
vessel  had  been  driven  upon  the  headland.  The  shrieks 
of  the  helpless  crew  were  heard  above  the  rage  of  the 
elements,  and  without  help — which  it  seemed  impossible 
to  give — every  soul  on  board  must  perish.  Almost 
the  whole  population  of  Klydon  hurried  to  the  head- 
land, and  with  them  Xenios  and  Aner.  The  vessel, 
a  fine  and  large  one,  had  run  upon  an  isolated  rock 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  end  of  the  headland.  The 
wreck  crashed,  and  creaked,  and  shuddered,  and  swayed 
to  and  fro,  as  billow  after  billow  burst  over  it  and 
buried  it  in  deluges  of  blinding  foam.  It  was 
certain  that  very  soon  it  must  be  dashed  to  pieces. 
After  a  short  space  the  shrieks  were  heard  no  more ; 
but  clinging  to  the  shrouds  of  the  mainmast,  when  for 
a  moment  the  full  moon  gleamed  through  some  rift 
in  the  black  clouds,  were  just  visible  the  figures  of  a 

H   2 


100  ALLEGORIES 

man,  and  of  a  'boy  who  clung  to  him — apparently  the 
sole  survivors  left  upon  the  wreck. 

The  horror  of  the  position,  the  knowledge  that  one 
of  the  survivors  was  a  child,  agonised  the  hearts  of  all 
the  spectators ;  but  what  could  be  done?  no  boat  could 
live  for  a  moment  in  that  hell  of  waters. 

'  Oh,  they  must  be  saved  !  they  must  at  all  costs 
be  saved  !  '  cried  Aner,  wringing  his  hands.  '  A  large 
reward  for  any  sailor  or  fisherman  who  will  rescue 
them !  ' 

No  one  dared  to  face  so  frightful  a  peril,  and  Aner 
seemed  to  hear  a  voice  saying  to  him,  '  Would  you  risk 
the  lives  of  others  and  not  your  own  ?  Most  of  these 
poor  men  have  wives  and  children.  You  are  alone  in 
the  world.' 

'I  am,'  he  answered  aloud.  'Xenios,  tie  this  long 
rope  tightly  round  my  waist.  It  will  reach  to  the  rock 
on  which  the  ship  has  struck.  I  will  try  to  save  those 
two  poor  wretches.' 

'  It  will  be  awfully  dangerous,  sir,'  said  Xenios. 

'  I  know  it,'  said  Aner ;  '  but  I  am  a  strong  swimmer 
and  a  skilled  diver ;  and  I  am  quite  calm,  and  there  is 
a  chance.' 

'Don't  be  such  an  utter  and  amazing  fool,'  hissed 
the  voice  of  Hara,  who  had  crept  up  to  him  unseen  in 
the  darkness.  'What  is  the  unknown  man  to  you? 
Think  how  useful  you  are  !  Besides,  it  will  be  suicide 
over  again.' 

'  It  will  be  nothing  of  the  kind,'  said  Aner.  '  To 
die  in  the  effort  to  save  others  is  not  suicide  ! '  And  as 


THE   LIFE   STOEY   OF   ANER  101 

he  turned  resolutely  from  Hara,  the  flash,  the  throb, 
the  whisper,  which  he  associated  with  the  thought  of 
Hatob,  came  to  him,  and  therewith  the  picture  of 
Imrah,  and  the  words  : 

I  did  all  this  for  thee  : 
What  wilb  thou  do  for  me  ? 

It  decided  him.  '  Tie  the  rope  round  me,  Xenios,'  he 
said — for  Xenios  had  hesitated — '  and  fear  not.'  While 
it  was  being  tied,  the  boy  Philos  clung  to  him,  and 
amid  the  tumult  of  the  crowd  Aner  heard  him  sob 
forth,  '  Oh,  don't  go !  don't  go !  my  second  father, 
what  should  we  do  without  you?  Look  at  those 
waves  ! '  And  indeed — as  he  spoke — in  tempestuous 
force,  as  though  with  the  rush  of  thousands  of  white 
leaping  steeds,  and  with  blinding,  drenching  cataracts, 
of  spray,  a  huge  breaker  shattered  itself  to  pieces  on 
the  rock,  and,  with  a  roar  and  hiss,  flung  its  scarcely 
expended  fury  almost  at  their  feet. 

Aner  raised  Philos  in  his  arms  and  kissed  him. 
'  Lift  your  innocent  hands  to  Heaven  for  me,  my  child,' 
he  said ;  and,  as  the  breaker  was  falling  back  into  the 
deep,  conscious  of  all  his  danger,  commending  himself 
to  Elyon  in  one  agony  of  prayer,  he  plunged,  and  dived 
through  the  next  billow  before  it  burst.  In  the  dim 
light  the  people,  with  beating  hearts,  saw  him  reach 
the  rock,  clutch  it  with  his  hands,  and  climb  the 
vessel's  side.  He  quickly  mounted  the  mast  and 
took  the  child  from  the  man's  arms. 

'  No  time  for  words,'  he  said  to  the  child.  '  Cling  to 
my  back  ;  let  nothing  make  you  let  go.  ...  Now  ! ' 


102  ALLEGORIES 

He  had  watched  his  opportunity  after  the  burst  of 
another  monstrous  billow  ;  he  dived  through  the  swell 
of  the  next,  and  struck  out  with  mighty  strokes.  The 
trained  and  hardy  fishermen  ran  down  the  rocky 
shingle  in  the  wake  of  the  ebbing  wave,  and  as  they 
hauled  at  the  rope,  he  was  drawn  safely  to  shore,  battered 
indeed,  and  hurled  about  by  the  storm,  but  safe.  The 
boy  whom  he  had  rescued  had  lost  consciousness. 
'  Attend  to  him,  Xenios,'  he  said,  '  and,  if  I  perish,  train 
him  with  your  own  sons.' 

'  Surely,  surely  you  will  not  brave  that  awful 
struggle  again,  sir  ? '  said  Xenios  ;  and  the  rough  fisher- 
men thronged  round  and  tried  to  dissuade  him.  One 
or  two  even  offered  to  go  in  his  place. 

The  wind  yelled,  the  sea  seemed  more  and  more 
like  a  host  of  hungry  demoniac  monsters ;  but  Aner 
only  pointed  to  the  figure  which  still  was  visible  on 
the  summit  of  the  swaying  mast,  and  they  saw  in  his 
eyes  the  light  of  an  unquenchable  determination. 

'  Do  not  hinder  me,  my  men,'  he  said.  '  I  have  saved 
one  life  ;  perhaps  it  may  be  granted  me  to  save  the  other.' 

Again  he  plunged  and  swam,  and  even  amid  the 
tumult  of  billow  and  hurricane  he  heard  the  burst  of 
excited  cheers  which  the  crowd  raised  when  they  saw 
him  once  more  reach  the  ship  and  climb  the  mast. 

'  Can  you  swim  ?  can  you  help  to  save  yourself  ? ' 
he  asked  the  solitary  survivor. 

'  I  cannot,'  was  the  answer  in  tones  strangely 
familiar  to  Aner ;  '  I  am  almost  benumbed.  I  can 
scarcely  even  hold  on  to  the  mast.' 


ANEK    RESCUES    PHAEDROS 


THE   LIFE   STOKY   OF   ANER 


105 


Who  was  it  ?  Did  not  Aner  know  that  voice  ?  A 
gleam  of  moonlight  shone  for  an  instant  on  the  man's 
face  through  the  ragged  rift  of  black  clouds,  and  Aner 
recognised  Eutrapelos.  ^  Had  he  also  recognised  in 
Aner  the  man  whom  he  had  so  fearfully  wronged  and 
almost  done  to  death  ? 

He  had  !  He  too  had  been  startled  by  the  familiar 
voice,  and  the  sudden  gleam  had  revealed  to  him  the 
features  of  Aner. 

'  Go  ! '  he  said ;  '  leave  me  to  my  fate.  Have  you 
come  to  torment  me  before  the  time  ?  ' 

'  Not  to  torment  you,  Eutrapelos,'  said  Aner  very 
gently,  '  but  to  save  you  ;  or  if  need  be  to  die  with  you.' 

'  0  God  !  '  groaned  Eutrapelos.  His  hands  relaxed 
their  grasp  on  the  shrouds ;  he  would  have  fallen  faint- 
ing :  but  Aner  upheld  him,  tied  one  coil  of  the  rope 
round  him,  supported  him  on  one  strong  arm  down  the 
mast  to  the  edge  of  the  rock — and  plunged.  He  knew 
that  it  was  but  a  forlorn  chance  : — but  the  distance  from 
the  shore  was  not  great ;  the  rope  might  drag  them 
safely  in. 

Alas !  as  though  in  revenge,  the  huge  wave  swept 
and  tossed  them  hither  and  thither,  and  smote  them 
down,  and  rolled  their  bodies  over  on  the  rocks ;  and 
when  it  flung  its  expended  violence  on  the  shore,  and 
the  fishermen  were  at  last  able  to  draw  them  in,  Aner 
was  unconscious  and  dying,  Eutrapelos  was  dead. 

It  was  a  thrilling  scene.  The  boy  whom  Aner 
had  saved  was  the  son  of  Eutrapelos  and  Phaedra,  and 
when  he  saw  his  father  lying  dead,  he  flung  him- 


106  ALLEGORIES 

self  upon  the  battered  corpse  and  kissed  the  bleeding 
face  and  raised  piteous  cries.  But  round  the  dying 
Aner  multitudes  gathered  with  loud  wailing.  The 
women  tore  their  hair  and  wrung  their  hands ;  the 
children  were  all  weeping ;  even  the  brown  faces  of 
strong  men  were  bathed  in  tears,  as  they  lifted  their 
friend  and  benefactor  most  gently  in  their  arms  and 
laid  him  on  a  litter  and  carried  him  to  his  home.  But 
it  was  most  of  all  pitiable  to  see  the  two  sons  of  Xenios. 
Krates,  the  elder  boy,  was  sobbing  as  if  his  heart 
would  break  ;  Philos  was  clinging  to  the  cold  hand 
which  hung  from  the  couch,  and  kissing  it  again  and 
again.  He  was  very  pale,  and  too  deeply  moved  even 
for  tears. 

They  took  Aner  to  his  room.  All  that  devoted 
tendance  could  do  was  done ;  but  for  many  hours  the 
dark  eyes  remained  closed,  no  gleam  of  consciousness 
returned  to  them. 

Yet  while  Aner  lay  there,  seemingly  without  life, 
unable  to  speak  or  stir,  he  was  aware  of  the  love  and 
tenderness  of  his  weeping  friends,  and  all  other  feelings 
were  lost  in  a  deep  sense  of  peace.  He  felt  as  if  Hatob 
were  beside  him  and  were  holding  him  by  the  hand, 
and  smiling  on  him  with  that  smile  which  had  seemed 
so  radiant  to  him  when  he  was  a  boy ;  and  he  saw,  or 
seemed  to  see,  Imrah  himself  standing  patiently  by 
his  bedside  waiting  for  him,  and  shedding  on  him  the 
light  of  his  countenance,  in  which  was  unimaginable 
beatitude. 

Only  at   the  last  did  Aner  recover  consciousness. 


THE   LIFE   STORY   OF  ANER  107 

His  eyes  opened.     Xenios  was  watching  him  in  speech- 
less sorrow. 

'  Xenios,'  he  said  in  his  weak  voice,  '  my  true  and 
faithful  friend,  I  am  leaving  you.  I  am  going  home. 
I  bequeath  to  you  all  that  I  possess.  Bring  your  children 
here,  and  the  boy  whom  I  saved  from  the  wreck.' 

They  came.  The  boy  had  all  the  beauty  of  his 
mother,  Phaedra.  '  What  do  they  call  you,  my  little 
lad  ?  '  asked  Aner. 

'  They  called  me  Phaedros,'  said  the  boy  ;  '  but  they 
are  dead.' 

'  Elyon  leaves  none  orphans  who  seek  him,  my  boy. 
Xenios  will  be  your  father ;  his  sons  your  brothers. 
Kesist  evil.  Live  for  others  and  you  will  be  happy. 
And  you,  my  Krates,'  he  said,  '  set  Phaedros  a  good 
example  and  be  very  kind  to  him.'  He  laid  his  right 
hand  on  the  head  of  Phaedros,  his  left  on  the 
head  of  Krates,  and  blessed  them  tenderly.  Then  he 
folded  his  arms  round  his  little  Philos,  breathed  one 
prayer  for  the  weeping  child,  blessed  him,  and  bade 
them  all  farewell. 

Xenios  alone  remained  with  him. 

'  Xenios,'  he  murmured,  '  I  am  happy,  very  happy. 
Do  you  know  who  that  boy  is  ? ' 

'No,  sir,'  said  Xenios. 

'  He  is,'  said  Aner,  '  the  son  of  her  whom  I  once 
called  my  wife.  .  .  .  And  do  you  know  who  was  the 
man  whom  I  tried  to  save  ?  ' 

'  Was  he ?  '  Xenios  hesitated  before  he  uttered 

the  name. 


108  ALLEGORIES 

'  I  see  that  you  have  guessed  aright,'  said  Aner. 
'  Yes  !  he  was  my  worst  enemy,  Eutrapelos  ;  and  I  am 
so  happy  that  he  knew  before  he  was  drowned  that  it 
was  I  who  had  tried  to  save  him.' 

'  Forgiving  and  forgiven,  beloved  master !  '  sobbed 
Xenios. 

'  Farewell,  Xenios,'  whispered  Aner,  barely  able  to 
speak  any  longer.  '  Do  not  weep  for  me.  I  am  happy 
at  last.  If  this  be  death,  it  is  not  nearly  so  hard  a 
thing  to  die  as  I  thought  it  was.' 

A  moment  later  Xenios  saw  Aner  half  rise  from  his 
bed,  while  a  light,  as  of  heaven,  gleamed  on  his  coun- 
tenance and  shone  from  his  yearning  eyes. 

'  Oh,  my  Father  !  '  he  cried,  '  forgiven  !  forgiven  ! 
Cherubim  and  Seraphim  ! '  He  opened  his  eyes  wide  . 
then  the  light  faded  from  them,  and  he  sank  back  dead, 
with  a  happy  smile  upon  his  lips. 


The  whole  population  of  Klydon,  in  deepest  sadness, 
accompanied  by  all  the  children  weeping  for  him, 
followed  his  body  to  the  tomb  where  they  laid  him ; 
and  on  it  they  inscribed,  '  To  Aner,  our  Benefactor.' 


But  Aner  seemed  to  himself  to  be  on  a  black  barge, 
on  a  dark  and  illimitable  sea,  and  at  first  there  was 
an  awful  hush.  Then  he  became  conscious  that 
Hatob  held  him  by  the  hand,  as  the  bark  glided 
over  the  waveless  depths.  Scarcely  daring  to  break 
the  silence,  yet  he  whispered,  *  Whither  ?  '  And  Hatob, 


TWO   BKIGHT   FORMS    MET   HIM 


THE   LIFE   STORY    OF   ANER  111 

without  speaking,  pointed  him  to  the  horizon.  There, 
on  one  spot  of  the  dark  sea,  blazed  a  glory  as  of  sun- 
shine. Towards  this  the  bark  sped.  And  as  it  sped 
and  he  sat  silent,  he  thought  that  he  heard  .the  low 
sweet  voice  of  Hatob  singing  to  him  the  words  of  a 
poet  whom  he  had  known  : 

When  on  my  day  of  life  the  night  is  falling, 

And  in  the  winds,  from  unsunned  spaces  blown, 
I  hear  far  voices  out  of  darkness  calling 
My  feet  to  paths  unknown. 

I  have  but  Thee,  my  Father  ;  let  Thy  Spirit 

Be  with  me  then  to  comfort  and  uphold ; 
No  gate  of  pearl,  no  branch  of  palm,  I  merit, 
No  street  of  shining  gold. 

Suffice  it  if — my  good  and  ill  unreckoned, 

And  both  forgiven  through  Thy  abounding  grace — 
I  find  myself  by  hands  familiar  beckoned 
Unto  my  fitting  place. 

Some  humble  door  among  Thy  many  mansions, 

Some  sheltering  shade  where  sin  and  striving  cease, 
And  flows  for  ever  through  Heaven's  blue  expansions 
The  river  of  Thy  peace. 

There,  from  the  music  round  about  me  stealing, 

Soon  may  I  learn  the  new  and  holy  song, 
And  find  at  last  beneath  Thy  trees  of  healing 
The  life  for  which  I  long. 

The  bark  touched  the  shore.  No  trumpets  sounded 
for  him  on  the  other  side,  but  two  bright  forms,  clad 
with  wings,  met  him  and  took  him  by  the  hand.  They 
clothed  him  in  white  raiment.  They  entered  a  gate 
of  pearl,  and  through  a  sea  of  heavenly  light  {ie  saw  a 


112  ALLEGORIES 

rainbow  round  a  throne,  in  sight  like  unto  an  emerald. 
Aner  flung  himself  upon  his  face.  The  wounded  hand 
of  Imrah  raised  him,  and  when  he  dared  to  look  up 
he  saw  the  glory  of  his  Father's  countenance,  and 
his  Father  smiled  on  him,  and  welcomed  his  weary 
wanderer  home. 


113 


THE    CHOICE 


Before  man  is  life  and  death  :  whether  him  liketh  shall  be  given 
him. — Ecclus.  xv.  17. 

Dein  Schicksal  ruht  in  deiner  eigner  Brust.— SCHILLEK. 

THERE  were  three  youths  among  the  Porphyrians,  in 
a  region  of  the  Purple  Island  different  from  that  of 
which  we  have  spoken  ;  for  the  Porphyrians  had  among 
them  various  nations  and  communities  and  languages. 

The  names  of  these  three  youths,  who  knew  each 
other  well,  and  had  passed  through  a  similar  education, 
were  Faber,  Festus,  and  Fidelis.  Their  fathers  were 
men  of  the  middle  rank  of  life,  neither  poor  nor  rich, 
neither  noble  nor  plebeian.  They  could  give  their  sons 
the  best  of  educations  up  to  early  manhood  ;  after  that 
the  youths  were  compelled  of  necessity  to  be  the 
architects  of  their  own  fortune,  the  arbiters  of  their 
own ;  destiny  in  the  Purple  Island,  and  thereafter. 

These  three  youths  had  just  been  emancipated  from 
tutors  and  governors,  and  now  stood  on  the  marble 
threshold  of  their  manly  years.  They  had  in  them- 
selves the  materials  for  success,  or  the  germs  for 

I 


114  ALLEGORIES 

future  failure.  They  were  free  to  make  or  mar  the 
conditions  of  their  existence. 

The  world  was  all  before  them  where  to  choose 
their  place  of  rest ;  and  Providence  would  be  their  Guide 
if  they  did  not  prefer  to  take  the  guidance  into  their 
own  weak  hands. 

All  three  had  on  their  faces  the  charm  of  youth  ; 
but  otherwise  they  were  very  different  in  appearance. 
The  face  of  Faber  was  striking.  His  open  brow  was 
surrounded  by  short  waves  of  dark  hair.  The  ex- 
pression of  his  lips  was  firm;  there  was  a  look  of 
command  in  his  eyes  ;  you  felt  that,  whatever  errors  he 
might  commit,  he  would  do  nothing  ignoble.  Upon 
the  face  of  Festus,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  a 
somewhat  soft  and  effeminate  expression.  His  light 
hair  was  parted  in  the  middle  and  broke  into  a  tangle 
of  curls  over  his  forehead ;  his  lips  were  full  and 
tremulous ;  his  glance  wandered  from  place  to  place. 
His  manner  was  caressing.  The  third  youth,  Fidelis, 
was  not  in  the  least  handsome,  as  the  others  were,  but 
he  looked  the  picture  of  health  and  honest  manliness  : 
on  all  who  spoke  to  him  he  left  the  impression  of 
courtesy  and  modest  strength. 

They  were  taking  a  brief  holiday  before  entering  on 
the  task  of  earning  their  own  living.  They  had  spent 
this  delightful  interspace  of  leisure  in  wandering 
among  the  wildest  scenes  of  the  Purple  Island,  seeing 
places  of  fame  or  beauty,  which  it  might  not  be  their 
chance  ever  to  revisit. 

In  the  course  of  these  wanderings  they  had  come  to 


THE    WISHING    WELL 


J  2 


THE   CHOICE  117 

a  remote  village,  where  the  present  inhabitants  were 
still  given  to  obsolete  superstitions.  In  this  village 
was  a  well,  known  as  the  Wishing  Well.  You  had  but 
to  drop  a  pebble  into  its  depths,  the  villagers  said,  and 
to  wish  for  anything  you  liked  while  it  was  sinking  to 
the  bottom  ;  if  the  patron  spirit  of  the  well  approved 
of  you,  your  wish  would  be  granted. 

The  three  youths  stood  beside  the  well. 

'  If  people  really  believed  in  this  well,'  said  Faber, 
'I  should  think  that  it  would  have  been  choked  up 
with  pebbles  long  ago,  for  human  desires  are  as  in- 
satiable as  hunger  or  the  sea.' 

'Perhaps  the  well  is  fathomless,'  said  Festus.  'At 
any  rate,  don't  let  us  miss  a  chance.  Here  goes  my 
pebble,  and  I  make  my  wish.' 

'It's  all  nonsense,  I  believe,'  said  Faber,  smiling. 
'  Nevertheless  I  always  succumb  to  this  nonsense.  I 
always  make  a  wish  when  I  see  a  piebald  horse,  and  I 
always  turn  my  money  in  my  purse  when  I  hear  the  first 
cuckoo.  So  here  goes  my  pebble,  and  I  make  my  wish.' 

'Now,  Fidelis,'  said  his  two  companions,  'in  with 
your  pebble !  ' 

'  Not  I,'  said  Fidelis,  laughing, 

'  Ah,'  said  Festus,  '  he  is  a  philosopher,  or  a  cynic, 
or  something  of  that  sort.  He  rises  superior  to  our 
weak  credulity.' 

'  I  am  not  what  you  say,  Festus,'  he  answered, 
'  though  I  believe  in  the  well  as  little  as  you.  Yet 
that  is  not  my  reason  for  not  throwing  in  the  pebble.' 

'  What  then  ?  ' 


118  ALLEGORIES 

'Because  I  have  no  particular  wish  to  make.' 

'  No  wish  !  '  said  Faber ;  '  I  have  a  multitude  of 
devouring  and  consuming  wishes.' 

1  No  wish  ! '  said  Festus,  '  while  there  are  hundreds 
of  delights  which  others  enjoy,  and  which  are  wholly 
beyond  your  reach  and  ours?  What  a  Phoenix  you 
must  be  !  ' 

'  Well,'  said  Fidelis,  *  if  you  really  press  me,  I  must 
say  that  most  things  men  wish  for  are  banes,  not  boons. 
You  know  how  one  poet  said,  long  ago,  that  the  easy 
gods  have  overthrown  whole  families  at  their  own  desire, 
and  another  that  man  is  dearer  to  the  gods  than  even 
to  himself,  and  that  it  is  better  to  leave  our  destinies  in 
their  hands  ;  and  another,  still  more  wisely— 

We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 

Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good.     So  gain  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers.' 

'  Oh,  spare  us,  spare  us  !  '  said  Festus.  '  When 
Fidelis  begins  to  quote  the  poets,  it's  all  up  with 
ordinary  mortals.  He  pours  them  on  us  in  cataracts.' 

1  Whom  could  I  quote  more  usefully  ? '  asked 
Fidelis  good-humouredly.  '  Who  are  sweeter  or  wiser 
teachers  of  what  is  pure  and  good?  But — without 
quoting  any  more  poets — though,  after  all,  they  only 
sum  up  the  universal  experience  which  all  know  and 
all  ignore — you  will  hardly  deny  that  men,  like  rats, 
often  ravin  their  own  proper  bane.' 

'  There  he  goes  !  He  quotes  a  poet  even  while  he  is 
saying  he  won't  quote  any  more  ! '  said  Festus. 


THE   CHOICE  119 

'  Do  you  really  mean  to  tell  us,  Fidelis,'  said  Faber, 
'  that  you  are  quite  content  with  everything  as  it  is  ?  ' 

'  I  am  by  no  means  such  a  vain  creature  as  to  be 
perfectly  content  with  myself,  Faber,  if  you  mean  that  ; 
but,  as  regards  all  else,  I  am  content  so  far.' 

'  I  am  not,'  said  Faber  frankly.  '  You  and  I  are 
going  to  enter  into  professions.  We  shall  toil  and 
drudge  for  years,  and  perhaps — only  "perhaps" — after 
all  this  dust  and  desk- work,  when  youth  is  over,  when 
life  has  become  stale ' 

'When,'  interpolated  Festus,  'pleasure  has  lost  all 
deliciousness,  and  the  roses  are  withered,  and  fruits 
have  lost  their  savour.' 

'When,'  continued  Faber,  'the  almond  tree  shall 
flourish,  and  the  grasshopper  be  a  burden,  and  desire 
shall  fail — then  we  shall  possibly — only  "  possibly  " 
have  made  enough  to  live  on,  not  in  splendour,  perhaps 
barely  in  comfort,  but  only  in  a  grinding  and  degrading 
mediocrity  of  struggle  and  anxiety,  while  thousands  of 
fools,  born  with  golden  spoons  in  their  mouths,  welter 
in  dull  abundance  and  are  promoted  without  an  effort 
to  the  highest  offices.' 

'  Who  are  the  cynics  now  ?  '  said  Fidelis.  '  What 
a  dismal  picture  of  life  !  I  don't  accept  it.  To  you, 
Faber,  I  say — not  to  Festus,  as  he  hates  poetry — 

The  sunshine  and  the  shadow  of  our  lives 
Are  less  in  our  surroundings  than  ourselves.' 

'  Well,  then,'  said  Faber,  '  why  don't  you  wish 
something  about  your  own  self  ?  ' 


120  ALLEGORIES 

'  That  does  not  come  by  wishing,  Faber,  but  by 
willing.  One  can't  yawn  it  into  being  while  one  lolls 
on  flowery  beds.' 

1  There  he  goes,  quoting  two  more  poets  in  one  line  ! ' 
said  Festus. 

'  Never  mind  what  Festus  says, '  said  Faber.    '  Go  on. ' 

'I  don't  want  to  bore  you,'  said  Fidelis,  'but  you 
know,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  we  have  to  make  our  true 
selves  ;  we  have  to  acquire  ourselves.' 

'What  is  the  good  of  oneself,'  asked  Festus 
scornfully,  'if  one  can't  enjoy  oneself?  Lest  you 
should  think  that  you  have  the  poetry  all  to  yourself, 

I  say— 

'  Go  live  your  life,  and  be  yourself, 
And  take  the  goods  the  gods  provide  ; 

"pluck  the  blossom  of  the  flying  day." 

'It  wasn't  I  who  brought  on  this  conversation, 
Festus,'  said  Fidelis  ;  '  but  as  to  your  question,  the 
answer  depends  on  what  you  call  "enjoyment"  and 
what  you  mean  by  "  oneself."  Do  you  mean  by  "  self  '; 
a  bundle  of  passions,  or  something  more  divine  ?  Do 
you  mean  by  "yourself"  a  human  animal  or  a  child 
of  light?  Do  you  mean  a  hunger,  a  thirst,  a  fever, 
an  appetite,  or ?  ' 

'  Bah  ! '  said  Festus,  interrupting,  '  I  am  what  I  am. 
We  are  not  now  in  a  sermon-house.' 

'Be  it  so.  Pardon  my  involuntary  sententious- 
ness.  Well,  I  will  only  say  to  Faber,  who  is  not 
quite  so  impatient  as  you  are,  that,  as  far  as  I  can 
make  out,  there  is  quite  as  much  real  happiness  in  the 


THE   CHOICE  121 

struggling  middle  class,  to  which  we  all  three  belong — 
yes,  and  even  "  in  huts,  where  poor  men  lie  " — as  among 
the  rich  and  great.  I  say  with  the  old  lame  slave  who 
was  dear  to  the  immortals,  "  Give  me  the  man  who  is 
poor  and  yet  happy  ;  sick  and  yet  happy  ;  despised  and 
yet  happy  ;  slandered  and  yet  happy ;  persecuted  and 
powerless  and  yet  happy.  He  is  a  true  man."  What 
is  best  for  us  is  given  us,  and  the  best  is  good  enough.' 

'  Old  saws,'  sneered  Festus. 

'  Yes,  and  modern  instances  too,  Festus,  as  we  may 
all  three  live  to  find.' 

'  I  won't  be  so  brusque  as  Festus,'  said  Faber,  '  but 
is  not  the  line  you  are  taking  rather  ideal  ?  ' 

'  Is  it  idealism  to  be  content,  Faber  ?  On  the  con- 
trary I  prefer  the  realism  of  attainable  happiness  to 
wild  and  deluding  hopes.  Having  light  enough  for 
present  purposes,  I  don't  want  to  clutch  at  the  stars.' 

'  You  are  a  Stoic,'  said  Festus,  '  and  no  doubt 
believe  that  your  wise  man  would  be  happy  even  while 
he  was  howling  in  the  red-hot  Bull  of  Phalaris.  But 
if  only  you  had  a  beard,  I  would  pull  your  beard  as  the 
boys  in  Home  used  to  do  when  they  heard  some  ragged 
Stoic  boasting  that  he  was  a  king.' 

'Luckily,  as  you  say,  I  have  no  beard  yet,'  said 
Fidelis  laughing.  '  But  you  have  dropped  your  pebbles 
into  the  well  and  wished ;  and,  though  you  have  been 
very  rude  to  me,  Festus,  yet,  if  the  granting  of  your 
wishes  would  be  a  boon,  I  will  wish  that  your  wishes 
may  come  true.  But  now — you  see  that  beacon  on  the 
hill  ?  I  will  race  you  both  there,  and  will  not  tire  you 


122  ALLEGORIES 

any  more  with  my  sermons,  as  Festus  calls  them,  for 
which  I  ask  your  pardon.' 

Festus  began  the  race  for  a  short  distance,  and  then 
stopped,  saying,  *  Far  too  much  trouble  :  why  should  I 
bother  myself,  when  there  is  not  even  a  crown  of 
parsley  or  of  olive  to  be  won  by  it  ?  '  So,  while  he 
lagged  hopelessly  behind,  the  other  two  ran  a  close 
race,  until  Fidelis  got  clearly  ahead  and  seated  himself, 
laughing,  under  a  shady  tree.  Faber  came  up,  not  at  all 
pleased  at  having  been  beaten.  But  he  was  soon  put 
into  a  good  humour  again,  for  Fidelis  did  not  triumph 
over  him,  and  only  attributed  his  victory  to  the  fact 
that  Faber  carried  more  weight. 


II 

Libenter  homines  id  quod  volunt  credunt. — CAESAR,  De  Bell.  Gall.  iii.  18. 
Cursed  with  every  granted  prayer. — POPE. 

FROM  the  hill-top  they  saw  the  little  village  where  they 
were  to  sleep  that  night,  and  they  made  their  way 
thither. 

It  was-  an  enchanting  spot.  The  sea  there  was 
pure  and  uncontaminated,  varying  hour  after  hour  from 
bright  green  and  purple  to  sapphire  blue.  It  was  a 
delight  to  watch  the  sea-birds  sailing  over  it,  or  resting 
on  its  heaving  bosom,  and  to  listen  to  its  unending 
laughter,  and  see  its  wavelets  as  they  plashed  in  the 
evening  light  in  rainbow  lustre  upon  the  sandy  shore. 


THE   CHOICE  123 

After  they  had  refreshed  themselves,  the  three 
youths  wandered  out  to  a  headland  which  jutted  into 
the  sea.  Here  they  separated,  and  each  chose  his  own 
place  where  to  sit  and  watch  the  splendour  of  the  sun  as 
it  set  into  the  encrimsoned  waves,  while  they  breathed 
the  balm  of  the  fresh  evening  air. 

Faber  climbed  down  the  cliff  and  seated  himself 
on  the  rocks  at  the  utmost  point  of  the  headland, 
where  there  was  nothing  in  front  of  him  but  the  restless 
waters.  He  had  taken  with  him  a  book  of  the  stories 
of  heroes  and  kings,  and  how  they  had  reared  their 
trophies  '  on  the  neck  of  crowned  fortune  proud.' 
'  While  as  for  me,'  he  thought  with  a  sigh,  '  I  seem 
doomed  to  a  life  narrow,  limited,  of  low  and  dim 
horizon  ;  and  then,'  he  added,  flinging  a  piece  of  rock 
into  the  sea,  '  I  shall  sink  into  the  waters  of  oblivion 
like  that  rock,  and  shall  very  soon  be  quite  as  much 
forgotten  as  if  I  had  never  been — like  those  ripples  which 
the  wave  obliterates  almost  as  soon  as  they  are  formed.' 

Had  the  .stone  which  he  had  flung  disturbed  a  spirit 
from  the  deep  ?  It  might  have  seemed  so  ;  for  im- 
mediately he  saw  a  figure  as  of  a  man  approach  him, 
luminous  and  shadowy,  of  stately  aspect,  but  of  some- 
what troubled  brow. 

1  Youth  ! '  said  the  Spirit,  '  I  was  beside  thee  at  the 
well.  I  read  thy  thoughts ;  I  heard  thy  unuttered 
meditations.  Listen  !  It  has  been  permitted  me  to  grant 
to  men  the  thing  that  they  desire.  Even  without 
personal  experience,  they  might,  if  they  chose,  judge 
what  is  good  and  what  is  harmful.  Nor  are  my  gifts 


124  ALLEGORIES 

supernatural.  All  men  are,  on  the  whole,  what  they 
desire  to  be ;  and,  more  or  less,  all  men  may  obtain  the 
things  for  which  they  strive.  Choose,  then,  for  thine 
own  life,  what  thou  dost  most  desire.' 

For  a  moment  Faber  was  silent,  for  some  of  the 
things  which  Fidelis  had  said  came  into  his  mind. 

'  Thou  dost  well  to  pause,'  said  the  Spirit.  '  Let 
thy  choice  be  deliberate.  Before  yon  sun  has  set,  I 
will  return;  and  then — if  thou  wilt — receive  at  my 
hand  the  amulet  which  will  give  thee  thy  choice — be 
it  riches,  or  pleasure,  or  fame,  or  power.' 


FESTUS 

doTTjpi/CTOus.—  2  Pet.  ii.  14. 
Sua  cuique  deus  fit  dira  cupido. — VEKG.  JEn.  ix.  185. 

WHILST  Faber  had  been  climbing  over  the  steep  crags 
to  reach  his  rocky  throne,  Festus  had  chosen  out  the 
sunniest  place  he  could  find,  where  the  moss  was  softest, 
and  the  flowering  thyme  most  fragrant ;  and  there  he 
had  flung  himself  down  at  full  length  in  the  easiest  of 
postures.  He  had  taken  with  him  a  loose,  voluptuous 
fiction,  base  and  morally  effeminating.  It  was  one 
of  those  utterly  pestilent  books  which  call  evil  good, 
and  good  evil,  and  paint  the  gates  of  hell  with  Para- 
dise. In  this  vile  book,  which,  had  he  been  wise  and 
manly,  he  would  have  flung  at  the  first  page  into 
the  fire,  or,  even  now,  ere  he  had  fully  imbibed  its 


THE   CHOICE  125 

poison,  would  have  kicked  with  indignation  into  the 
purging  brine — in  this  poisonous  pasture  of  the  devil- 
Greedily  he  engorged  without  restraint, 
And  knew  not  eating  death. 

And  when  he  shut  it  up,  to  roll  its  evil  taste  like  a 
delicious  morsel  under  his  tongue,  he  suddenly  heard  a 
ripple  of  laughter.  Looking  up  he  saw  one  of  Ashmod's 
spirits  close  beside  him,  not  shining,  but  rosy  and  in 
radiant  garb,  and  with  long  golden  hair  floating  in  the 
evening  breeze.  He  tried  to  grasp  her  hand,  but— 

'  Oh,  no  !  '  she  said  ;  '  I  have  come  to  grant  you  the 
wish  you  made  by  the  well.' 

'  How  do  you  know  it,  lovely  maiden  ?  '  he  asked. 

'Never  mind  that/  she  answered.  'Enough  that 
now,  if  you  like,  you  may  choose  what  you  will  have, 
and  what  you  choose  shall  be  given  you.' 

Festus  paused  as  Faber  had  paused.  Even  to  his 
indolent  and  frivolously  self-indulgent  nature  it  seemed 
too  serious  a  thing  to  decide  at  once — for  he  felt  that  the 
promise  carried  in  it  the  potency  of  its  own  fulfilment. 
Could  he  really  dare  to  state  what  he  would  choose  for 
the  portion  of  his  entire  life  in  the  Purple  Island  ? 

'  As  you  like,'  cried  the  bewitching  spirit.  '  I  shall 
disappear ;  but  before  the  sun  touches  the  wave  with 
his  lower  rim  you  must  be  ready  to  decide,  or  I  withdraw 
my  offer  to  grant  you  the  wish  you  made  when  you 
dropped  your  pebble  into  the  well.' 

She  turned  away;  but  the  mind  of  Festus  was 
throbbing  with  the  evil  images  and  suggestions  of  the 


126  ALLEGORIES 

book  in  which  he  had  voluntarily  been  reading  himself 
to  death,  and  he  called  after  her  :  '  Stay  !  stay  ! — you 
are  not  deceiving  me  ?  ' 

1  Not  in  the  smallest  degree,'  she  said.  '  Choose  or 
refuse  exactly  as  you  like.  It  is  absolutely  in  your 
own  power.' 

'  But  you  will  want  me  to  sign  some  bond  to  sell 
my  soul,  or  something  of  that  sort  ?  ' 

'  Not  one  syllable,'  she  answered  with  a  shrill  and 
scornful  laugh.  But  Festus  still  hesitated, 

Letting  '  I  dare  not '  wait  upon  '  I  would,' 
Like  the  poor  cat  i'  the  adage. 

At  last  he  cried  out :  '  Come  back  before  the  sun  begins 
to  set ;  but  I  wish  you  would  give  me  some  proof  that 
your  promises  are  real.' 

'  Take  this,  then,'  she  said  ;  and  with  a  touch  of  her 
soft  hand,  which  thrilled  him  through  and  through, 
she  placed  in  his  palm  a  rosy  fruit  of  intoxicating 
perfume.  '  But  remember,  you  may  not  taste  it  till 
after  your  choice.  Its  ambrosial  fragrance  will  suffice. 
If  you  disobey  me  in  this,  I  shall  not  return.' 

She  gave  him  one  more  enchanting  smile,  and  then 
seemed  to  melt  away  into  the  blue  waves — for  she  was 
Naama,  the  demon  of  unlawful  indulgences. 


THE   CHOICE  127 


FIDELIS 

Not  what  we  wish,  but  what  we  want, 

Thy  bounteous  grace  supply  ; 
The  good  unasked  in  mercy  grant, 

The  ill,  though  asked,  deny. 

Der  Erde  kostlichster  Gewinn 
1st  frohes  Herz  und  reiner  Sinn. 

SEAME,  Gedichte. 

THE  third  youth,  Fidelis,  had  chosen  his  seat  on  the 
topmost  point  of  the  headland,  fronting  the  pure  sea 
wind,  which  seemed  to  bring  him  health  and  strength 
and  courage  at  every  breath.  He  too  had  taken  a 
book  with  him.  It  was  a  book  for  a  true  man.  It 
stirred  the  noble  heart  as  with  the  blast  of  a  trumpet, 
intermingled  with  Doric  strains  of  beauty,  natural  and 
unadorned.  It  was  a  song  '  to  add  ardour  to  virtue, 
and  confidence  to  truth.'  It  was 

An  Orphic  song  indeed, 

A  song  divine,  of  high  and  passionate  thoughts 
To  their  own  music  chanted. 

As  the  youth  read  it,  his  pure,  strong  face  seemed  to 
shine  with  the  inward  light  of  the  thoughts  on  which 
he  dwelt,  and  when  he  closed  the  poem  he  was  full  of 
manly  courage  and  noble  resolution.  His  musings 
turned  upon  the  lives  of  the  wise  and  good  of  which  he 
had  read  of  old.  He  recalled  how  the  daily  prayer  of  one 
had  been,  '  Give  me,  0  Lord,  a  noble  heart  which  no 
earthly  affection  can  drag  down  ; '  and  how,  when  the 
vision  appeared  to  this  saint  and  offered  him  any  re- 
ward which  he  desired,  he  answered,  lNon  aliam,  nisi 
te,  Domine  '  ('  No  other  than  Thyself,  O  Lord  ! '). 


128  ALLEGORIES 

And  even  as  these  thoughts  were  in  his  heart,  he 
became  conscious  that  some  one  was  beside  him,  of 
noble  presence,  on  whose  features  seemed  to  be  written, 
as  one  has  said,  not  only  the  Ten  Commandments,  but 
the  Eight  Beatitudes.  His  presence  did  not  seem 
strange  to  Fidelis,  though  he  realised  that  this^was  no 
human  visitor.  He  felt  happy,  and  not  in  the  least  afraid. 

'  Fidelis,'  said  the  Visitant,  '  I  heard  all  that  you 
said  to  your  comrades  by  the  Wishing  Well.  I  have 
come  to  test  your  sincerity.  It  did  not  require  much 
effort  to  refuse  to  wish,  for  you  did  not  believe  in  the 
power  of  the  well ;  but  now  I  have  come  to  offer  you 
definitely  whatever  you  desire.  At  a  word,  riches  shall 
be  your  lot  in  life,  or  honours,  or  fame,  or  position, 
or  what  men  call  pleasure.  You  shall  not  answer  me 
now  ;  but  before  the  sun  touches  the  sea  I  will  again 
be  with  you,  and  you  shall  tell  me  your  decision.' 

'  If,  sir,  I  could  wish,'  said  Fidelis,  '  that  I  might 
ever  be  hardened  against  myself,  this  worst  traitor  to 

myself — 

This  traitor  with  pathetic  voice, 

That  craves  for  rest,  and  ease,  and  joys  ; — 

if  I  could  wish  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  be  a  good 
man — to  be  always  true  to  the  best  I  know — then  I 
would  wish  for  that.  But  I  suppose  it  does  not  come 
within  the  scope  of  your  offer  ?  ' 

'  It  does  not,'  said  the  stern  sweet  voice.  '  Self- 
conquest,  cannot  depend  on  an  external  gift.  It  is  the 
reward  of  unending  effort,  the  achievement  of  sincere 
and  unwavering  desire.' 


THE    CHOICE 


129 


Fidelis  turned  towards  him,  but  he  had  gone.  He 
mused.  '  I  have  no  objection,'  thought  he,  '  to  riches 
in  themselves,  if  they  come.  They  may  be  well  used. 
Perhaps  to  those  who  are  consummately  wise  they  may 
be  a  source  of  satisfaction ;  but  I  never  knew  any  one 
yet  whom  they  made  happy,  and  I  have  seen  how 
terribly  often  they  cause  a  subtle  deterioration  in  the 
character  of  those  who  grow  insensibly  to  love  them. 
No,  I  will  not  ask  for  riches.  Honours  ?  I  would 
much  rather  achieve  them  than  have  them  as  a  gift. 
Fame  ?  What  is  fame  ? — "  the  murmur  of  the  unborn 
about  the  grave."  Pleasure?  is  not  all  innocent 
pleasure  already  at  my  command  ?  And  as  for  guilty 
pleasure,  it  is  anguish  in  the  bud  :  it  first  depraves,  then 
ruins,  then  destroys.  No,  I  have  read  in  Elyon's  book, 
"  Entrust  thy  way  unto  the  Lord,  and  He  shall  direct 
thy  paths." 

Ill 
FABER 

Ambition  this  shall  tempt  to  rise. — GRAY. 
Devine  si  tu  peux  et  choisis  si  tu  1'oses. — COBNEILLE,  Hdracl.  iv.  5. 

THE  sun  was  now  rapidly  descending.    He  had  already 
made  the  curtains  of  his  chamber  flame  with  purple 

and  violet,  and  was 

Proudly  carpeting 

The  western  waves  with  glory,  ere  he  deigned 
To  set  his  foot  upon  them. 

Faber    still    sat    on    his    projecting    rock,    and    the 
seething  waves  seemed  to  inspire  him  with  the  passion 

K 


130  ALLEGORIES 

to  plunge  into  them  and  buffet  with  and  master  them. 
The  line  of  the  old  Greek  poet  was  ringing  in  his  ears  : 

atev  afJi(TT€v€LV  Koi  VTrtipo~xov  e/xyxevai  aAAwv 

and  he  longed  to  be  in  the  front  rank  and  the  loftiest 
place.  But  how  could  he  ever  attain  to  be  first  and  best, 
and  a  chief  among  his  fellow-men  ?  How  could  he 
ever  make  himself  felt  and  heard,  from  that  dreadful 
depth  below  the  surface  in  which  he  feared  that  he 
must  be  thrown  by  the  mediocre  conditions  of  his  life? 
Was  life  worth  living,  if  all  that  he  could  hope  for  was, 
by  the  time  he  was  an  elderly  man,  to  have  attained  to 
the  possible  dignity  of  being  a  head  clerk  ?  He  longed 
to  be  somebody  and  something,  and  felt  stirring  within 
him  the  passion  and  the  power  to  rule. 

At  this  crisis  in  his  thoughts  he  perceived  that  the 
luminous  shadowy  figure  had  taken  its  stand  unnoticed 
beside  him. 

'  Youth,'  said  the  spirit,  *  have  you  made  your 
choice  ? ' 

'  Is  it  unconditional  ?  '  asked  Faber. 

'It  is.' 

'  If  I  choose  your  proffered  gift  of  success,  shall  I 
rise  to  the  highest  things  ?  ' 

'To  the  highest  positions,  undoubtedly.' 

'  What  sign  will  you  give  me  ?  ' 

'A  mark  upon  your  breast.  It  will  stay  there 
indelibly,  unless  you  yourself  entreat  that  it  should  be 
obliterated ;  but  the  moment  that  I  obliterate  it,  you 
•will  sink  back  into  obscurity.' 


THE   CHOICE 


181 


'There  is  not  the  least  chance  that  I  shall  ever 
entreat  for  that,'  said  Faber.     '  I  choose  success  ! ' 


THE    FINGER    OF    THE    SPIRIT    TOUCHED    HIS    BREAST 


'  Is  your  choice  final  ?  ' 
1  It  is.' 


132  ALLEGORIES 

'  Then  open  your  robe.' 

He  did  so,  and  the  finger  of  the  spirit  touched  his 
breast.  The  touch  for  one  instant  felt  like  fire. 

'  Farewell,'  said  the  spirit,  '  until  you  summon  me 
again.' 

'  Farewell,'  said  Faber  joyfully  to  the  vanishing 
figure.  '  Now  the  world  is  before  me !  I  shall  be 
great,  I  shall  be  famous  ! — What  mark  has  he  left  ? ' 

He  looked,  and  saw  that  over  his  heart  was  im- 
pressed the  vivid  picture  of  a  scarlet  tulip. 

'  It  is  brilliant,'  said  Faber.  '  But  the  tulip  has  no 
fragrance  and  no  fruit.  Never  mind.  It  is  a  flower 
which  no  one  can  overlook.' 


FESTUS 

Ae\fa£6[jievos  Kal  e£eA./c(fyiej/os.  —  James  i.  14. 


FESTUS  still  lolled  on  the  mossy,  fragrant  thyme- 
besprinkled  turf,  the  evil  book  beside  him,  his  thoughts 
lapped  in  luxurious  daydreams  which  seemed  to  acquire 
a  more  voluptuous  fascination  as  he  inhaled  the 
fragrance  of  the  rosy  fruit  which  Naama  had  left  in 
his  hand.  He  felt  tempted  to  taste  it  ;  '  but  if  I  do,' 
he  said,  '  I  shall  lose  my  chance.' 

'  Pleasure  !  '  he  thought  to  himself.  The  Siren  had 
offered  him  abundance  of  pleasure.  He  might  bathe  in 
it  ;  steep  his  imagination  with  it  ;  thrill  his  senses  with 
it.  And  what  could  he  have  better  ?  Everything  in  the 
world  is  less  than  nothing,  the  sages  said  ;  and  happi- 


THE   CHOICE  133 

ness  is  '  a  pearl  not  of  the  Indian,  but  of  the  empyrean 
ocean.'  If  that  were  so,  what  could  he  grasp  more 
tangible,  more  enchanting  than  pleasure  ?  Was  he  an 
icicle  ?  Did  not  the  young  blood  tingle  in  his  veins  ? 
Was  the  rejoicing  tide  of  his  youth  to  plash  idly  on 
the  barren  sands  of  mere  professional  drudgery  ?  The 
spirit  had  placed  the  rainbow  in  his  grasp ;  he  would 
clutch  at  it. 

His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  a  burst  of  silvery 
laughter,  and  Naama  in  all  her  beauty  flashed  upon 
him. 

'  Well,  fair  youth,'  she  asked,  '  have  you  made  your 
choice  ? ' 

'I  have,'  he  said — pleased  to  be  called  'fair  youth.' 
'  If  I  choose  pleasure,  will  you  give  it  me  abundantly 
and  without  stint  ?  ' 

'  Aye,'  she  said,  laughing  again  very  merrily.  '  Not 
for  one  day  only,  or  two  days,  or  three  days,  but  for 
many  days,  until,'  she  murmured  to  herself,  'like  the 
quails  which  the  Israelites  preferred  to  their  white 
angelic  manna,  it  shall  come  out  at  your  nostrils  and 
be  loathsome  to  you.' 

'  What  is  that  you  are  murmuring  to  yourself  ?  ' 
asked  Festus  reproachfully.  '  What  is  your  name  ?  ' 

'  They  call  me  Naama,'  she  answered  lightly. 

'  But  Naama  is  the  name  of  an  evil  spirit.' 

'  As  you  like,'  she  answered  with  another  peal  of 
mirth.  '  I  offer  you  pleasure.  Keject  it  if  you  will.' 

'  Shall  I  be  doing  very  wrong  if  I  accept  ?  ' 

'  What  is  right  ?     What  is  wrong  ?  '  she  said  with 


134  ALLEGORIES 

scornful  impatience.  '  All  that  is  for  your  decision. 
It  is  your  concern,  not  ours.  But  what  mortal  did 
we  spirits,  whom  you  impudently  call  evil,  ever  even 
try  to  persuade  that  black  was  white,  or  evil  good? 
We  do  not  deceive  ;  we  tempt.' 

Festus  was  awed  to  silence,  and  she  pointed  with 
her  finger  impatiently  to  the  sun. 

'  One  moment,'  she  said,  '  and  its  rim  will  have 
touched  the  wave.  It  will  then  be  too  late.  Once 
more  I  offer  you  pleasure.  Will  you  take  it  ?  ' 

He  sinelt  at  the  fruit  in  his  hand,  and  its  perfume 
seemed  to  sweep  him  away  upon  a  wave  of  delirious 
gratification. 

1 1  accept  it,'  he  said  passionately.  '  What  sign 
will  you  give  me  ?  ' 

'  I  have  given  you  one  in  that  fruit.  I  will  give 
you  another.  Open  your  breast.' 

He  did  so.  He  felt  the  burning  touch  of  her 
finger  over  his  heart.  He  looked  to  see  what  mark  it 
had  left.  It  was  a  blue  lotus-flower,  which  looked  as 
if  it  had  dreamy  enchantment  on  every  leaf. 

He  turned  round,  and  as  Naama  vanished  he  saw  the 
flash  of  malignant  disdain  on  her  lovely  lips,  and  heard 
the  echo  of  mocking  laughter,  in  which  many  voices 
seemed  to  join.  He  was  disconcerted,  though  he  tried 
to  persuade  himself  that  what  he  had  heard  was  only 
the  plashing  of  the  sea  waves.  The  fruit  was  in  his 
hands,  and  he  thought  that  now  he  would  not  only 
inhale  its  overpowering  scent,  but  also  eat  it.  He  did 
so.  For  an  instant  it  seemed  in  his  mouth  like  honey  of 


THE   CHOICE  135 

maddening  sweetness  ;  but  even  as  he  tasted  he  seemed 
to  feel  in  it  a  sting  of  bitter  absinth,  and  after  one  or 
two  mouthfuls  he  found  that,  though  it  was  rich  near 
the  rind,  it  was  poisonously  rotten  at  the  core. 

'  The  fruit  is  a  fraud,'  he  said,  flinging  away  its 
already  withered  and  evil- scented  husk.  '  Never  mind  ; 
pleasure  of  all  kinds  is  in  my  grasp.' 


FIDELIS 

Question  not,  but  live  and  labour 

Till  your  goal  be  won, 
Helping  every  feeble  neighbour, 

Seeking  help  from  none. 
Life  is  mostly  froth  and  bubble  ; 

Two  things  stand  like  stone — 
KINDNESS  in  another's  trouble, 

COURAGE  in  your  own. — A.  LINDSAY  GORDON. 

FIDELIS  still  sat  on  the  summit  of  the  headland, 
drinking  in  the  healthful  breeze  which  came  to  him 
over  leagues  of  the  pure  sea.  Suddenly  he  noticed  that 
the  sun  was  near  its  setting  and  the  Presence  was  by 
his  side.  Fidelis  bowed  reverently. 

'  Have  you  made  your  choice,  rny  son  ?  ' 

The  youth  bent  his  eyes  downwards,  and  said  with 
deep  modesty,  '  Blame  me  not,  my  father,  if  I  choose 
not  one  of  the  gifts  which  you  proffered  me.' 

'  Do  you  not  desire  happiness  ?  '  said  the  old  man 
with  a  smile. 

'You  did  not  offer  me  happiness,  sir,'  said  Fidelis, 


136  ALLEGORIES 

'  but  only  gifts  which  some  men  deem  to  confer  happi- 
ness— some,  but  not  all,  and  not  the  wisest.' 

'  Not  the  wisest  ?  ' 

'  I  am  too  young  and  too  inexperienced,'  said  Fidelis, 
1  to  know  for  myself.  But  you  offered  me  riches,  and 
I  have  read  of  one  wise  king  who  prayed,  "  Give  me 
neither  poverty  nor  riches ;  "  and  of  another— the  richest 
king  who  ever  was — whom  the  sage  would  not  pretend 
to  consider  happy,  but  thought  that  some  humble  good 
men  and  true  were  far  more  to  be  envied.  And,  look- 
ing at  it  on  the  other  side,  I  have  read  of  one  who  was 
a  cripple  and  a  slave,  and  yet  happier  than  emperors. 
And  pleasure? — is  it  not  granted  us  to  drink  as  out 
of  a  river,  all  the  innocent  pleasure  which  life  can 
give  ? — 1  would  not  say  all  this  if  I  did  not  feel  that 
you  approve.' 

'  And  do  you  care  nothing  for  fame  ? '  asked  the 
sage. 

'  Yes,  sir,  if  it  comes  from  real  desert.  But,  in 
this  case  too,  those  who  have  enjoyed  the  highest  fame 
say  that  it  is  half  disfame.' 

'You  are  quite  right,  Fidelis,'  said  his  visitant. 
'  You  have  already  what  may  be  a  priceless  gift — your 
own  being.  Acquire  yourself  more  and  more,  and  you 
will  have  a  possession  of  which  nothing  can  rob  you. 
Whatever  else  you  lose,  your  true  self  will  be  a 
better  possession  and  an  abiding.  And  no  one  can 
give  it  you  ;  it  must  be  won.' 

'  Then  grant  me  your  blessing,  father,'  said  Fidelis. 

'Yes,'  he  said,  '  I  bless  you  ;  and,  as  you  have  asked 


THE   CHOICE  137 

nothing,  I  give  you  something  better  than  all  I  offered, 
and  therewith  a  sign.     Unfold  your  robe.' 

Fidelis  did  so,  and  the  sage  placed  a  finger  upon  his 
breast  and  disappeared.  Fidelis  looked  and  saw  over 
his  heart  the  figure  of  a  lovely  pansy.  Then  he  smiled 
joyfully,  for  he  recalled  a  passage  in  an  allegory  which 
he  had  read  as  a  child,  how  certain  pilgrims  saw  a 
shepherd  boy,  meanly  clad,  but  withal  of  a  fresh  and 
well-favoured  countenance,  who  sat  and  sang ;  and  as 
they  listened  to  what  the  shepherd  lad  sang,  it  was : 

He  that  is  down  need  fear  no  fall, 

He  that  is  low  no  pride : 
He  that  is  lowly  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 

I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 

Little  be  it  or  much, 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 

Because  Thou  lovest  such. 

'  Then,'  said  Mr.  Greatheart,  '  hear  what  the  shep- 
herd lad  saith  :  "  I  warrant  that  this  boy  carries  more  of 
the  herb  called  Heartsease  in  his  bosom  than  many  who 
walk  in  silk  and  velvets."  ' 


The  three  youths  met  that  evening  after  the  sun 
had  set,  but  they  did  not  say  much  to  each  other,  nor 
did  they  reveal  what  had  occurred  to  them,  or  show 
the  secret  signs  imprinted  on  their  breasts.  Faber 
seemed  thoughtful  and  inclined  to  silence.  Festus  was 
moody,  fretful,  and  impatient.  Fidelis  was  very  quiet, 


138  ALLEGORIES 

but  a  light  of  inward  happiness  gleamed  in  his  eyes 
and  beamed  on  his  open  face,  making  it  almost  beauti- 
ful to  look  upon. 

Next  morning  the  three  friends  met  at  breakfast, 
and  Faber  asked,  '.  Did  you  two  find  any  flowers  in  your 
rooms  last  night  ?  ' 

1  Yes,'  said  Festus  and  Fidelis. 

'  How  strange  !  '  said  Faber. 

'  Why  strange  ?  '  asked  Fidelis. 

'  Because  I  found  some  in  mine,  and  no  one  in  the 
inn  knows  anything  about  them.  Indeed,  they  asked 
where  I  got  them,  for  they  said  that  no  such  flowers 
grow  here.' 

'  What  flowers  were  they  ? ' 

'  There  was  a  great  china  bowl  full  of  peonies. 
Ugly,  flaunting  things  !  I  disliked  the  look  of  them  so 
much  that  I  put  them  outside  the  door.  Were  peonies 
put  in  your  room  too,  Festus  ?  ' 

'  No.  I  found  a  huge  bunch  of  syringas.  Their 
scent  was  so  rich,  sickly,  and  overpowering,  that  I 
flung  them  out  of  the  window.' 

'  How  strange  !  '  said  Faber  again.  '  What  flowers 
had  you,  Fidelis  ?  ' 

'  Well,  I  seem  to  have  been  much  luckier  than  you,' 
said  Fidelis.  '  I  found  in  my  room  two  small  vases  of 
iridescent  glass.  One  of  them  was  full  of  sweet  violets  ; 
the  other  full  of  lilies  of  the  valley.  I  was  charmed 
with  them,  and  shall  take  them  away  with  me.' 

'  The  spirit  of  the  Wishing  Well  must  have  been 
amusing  himself  with  us,  I  think,'  said  Faber.  '  I 


THE   CHOICE  139 

can't  make  it  out.     But  anyhow,  you  had  the  best  of  it, 
Fidelia.1 

Next  day  the  youths  began  their  homeward  journey 
to  the  great  city  of  the  Porphyrians ;  for  now  their 
holiday  was  over,  and  the  serious  work  of  life  had  to 
begin.  We  shall  see  what  came  of  the  choice  they 
made. 


IV 
FABEE 

Omnia  fui,  et  nihil  expedit. — SEPTIMIUS  SEVERUS. 

FABEE  had  chosen  from  the  spirit  the  boon  of  success, 
and  his  success  was  astonishing  in  its  rapidity.  He 
had  been  destined  for  the  career  of  a  merchant  and 
entered  an  office  to  learn  his  work.  A  good  many  of  the 
youths  of  the  neighbourhood  in  which  he  lived  had 
combined  to  take  part  once  a  week  in  a  mock-political 
assemblage,  both  for  the  sake  of  amusement  and 
at  the  same  time  to  train  themselves  in  the  gift  of 
oratory,  which  was  in  high  demand  among  the  Por- 
phyrians. Usually  on  grand  occasions  their  gathering 
was  honoured  by  the  presence  of  some  high  Porphyrian 
lord,  who  thought  it  worth  his  while  to  look  out  for  any 
indications  of  rising  talent.  One  of  these  occasions 
occurred  within  a  month  of  the  return  of  Faber  from 
his  holiday.  A  formal  debate  was  held.  In  this  debate 
it  fell  to  Faber  to  make  an  unpremeditated  answer  to 


140  ALLEGOEIES 

all  his  oratorical  opponents.  He  did  this  with  such 
grace,  readiness,  and  mastery  of  the  question,  that  the 
great  visitor  was  surprised  and  delighted.  Faber  reso- 
lutely grasped  the  numerous  arguments  which  had 
been  urged  on  the  other  side,  and  showed  them  to  be 
quite  irrelevant.  He  tore  to  shreds  the  objections  which 
had  been  adduced  against  him,  with  masterful  and 
good-humoured  irony.  Always  self-reliant,  he  gained 
yet  stronger  confidence  from  the  consciousness  that 
he  was  winning  an  intellectual  victory.  He  ended  his 
speech  with  a  peroration  so  vigorous  in  its  eloquence 
as  fairly  to  carry  the  assemblage  by  storm  and  to  win 
the  majority  of  votes,  which  at  first  had  seemed  to 
be  more  than  dubious.  He  sat  down  amid  a  tumult 
of  applause,  during  which  the  distinguished  visitor 
whispered  to  a  friend  that,  even  in  the  national  Synod, 
he  had  never  listened  to  a  more  masterly  debating 
speech. 

'  This  young  man,'  he  added,  '  must  be  looked  after.' 

He  requested  the  president  of  the  debate  to  present 
Faber  to  him,  and,  struck  with  the  youth's  fine  face, 
modest  self-reliance,  and  attractive  demeanour,  asked 
him  to  call  at  his  house  the  next  day. 

Faber  kept  his  appointment  punctually.  He  en- 
tered the  library  of  the  minister  with  beating  heart, 
yet  without  the  smallest  touch  of  awkwardness  or 
servility. 

'  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  ability  you  displayed 
yesterday,'  said  his  Excellency.  *  It  happens  that  I 
am  in  immediate  want  of  the  services  of  a  secretary. 


THE   CHOICE  141 

May  I  offer  the  post  to  you  ?  It  is  an  important  one 
and  much  sought  after.' 

Faber  accepted  the  office  with  delight  and  gratitude. 
It  was  an  office  far  more  honourable  than  he  ever 
dreamed  could  have  fallen  to  him  so  soon.  In  a  very 
short  time  he  learnt  to  discharge  swiftly  and  skilfully  the 
necessary  duties.  He  won  the  minister's  unreserved 
confidence,  and  not  only  became  familiar  with  the 
ordinary  details  of  the  public  business  of  the  nation, 
but  was  so  much  trusted  as  to  be  admitted  into 
state  secrets  of  high  importance.  He  thus  gained 
an  insight  into  the  innermost  workings  of  national 
diplomacy. 

In  this  way  he  became  acquainted  and  even  intimate 
with  many  other  great  Porphyrian  statesmen.  There 
was  a  powerful  party  opposed  to  their  views,  and  a 
contest  was  coming  on  for  an  important  seat  in  the 
Synod,  which  the  existing  government  scarcely  hoped 
to  wrest  out  of  the  hands  of  a  strong  opponent. 

'  My  secretary,  Faber,  will  win  the  election  for  us  if 
any  one  can,'  said  the  minister.  His  colleagues  took  the 
same  view  and  sent  the  young  man  to  contest  the  consti- 
tuency. Here  again,  from  the  first  day  of  his  visit,  he  car- 
ried all  before  him.  The  party  of  the  rival  candidate  did 
their  utmost  to  discredit  him  as  a  mere  boy,  and  the 
candidate  himself  tried  to  make  fun  of  him.  He  had 
reason  to  regret  his  temerity.  Faber  more  than  justi- 
fied 'the  atrocious  crime  of  being  a  young  man.'  He 
overwhelmed  his  rival  with  good-natured  yet  most 
telling  irony.  His  wit  and  geniality  aroused  the 


142  ALLEGOEIES 

enthusiasm  of  every  audience  which  he  addressed, 
while  his  close  and  accurate  grasp  of  the  principles  of 
true  government  commanded  the  admiration  of  the 
more  educated  electors.  When  the  result  of  the  poll 
was  declared,  he  stood  at  the  head  of  it  by  a  triumphant 
majority,  and  his  success  had  the  further  advantage  of 
restoring  the  somewhat  wavering  fortunes  of  his  party. 
He  happened  one  day  to  glance  at  the  tulip  marked 
upon  his  breast.  He  thought  that  it  had  never  before 
looked  so  dazzling  in  its  colours. 

Then  began  his  great  career  in  the  Senate.  As  he 
had  little  or  nothing'of  his  own  to  live  on,  the  ministry 
presented  him  to  a  lucrative  sinecure,  in  order  that  he 
might  devote  his  time  and  talents  uninterruptedly  to 
their  political  interests.  They  were  well  repaid.  More 
than  one  brilliant  victory  in  the  Senate  was  won  solely 
by  his  ability  and  eloquence.  He  sometimes  even 
accomplished  the  rare  feat  of  changing  votes.  His 
anticipated  intervention  in  any  debate  was  sure  to  fill 
the  galleries  with  an  expectant  throng.  He  became 
indispensable ;  and,  young  as  he  was,  a  vacancy  was 
created  for  him  in  the  ranks  of  the  ministry.  He  began 
to  be  universally  spoken  of  as  '  the  boy  minister  '  and 
'  the  coming  man.' 

His  party  was  at  last  defeated,  but  after  a  brief 
interval  his  genius  rallied  the  scattered  forces  of  the 
ousted  ministers.  There  was  an  appeal  to  the  country 
and  they  returned  to  power.  He  could  now  practically 
command  almost  any  post  that  he  desired.  He  was 
honoured  with  a  title  ;  he  was  appointed  to  great  foreign 


THE   CHOICE  143 

embassies ;  and,  as  the  years  rolled  on,  the  unknown 
and  humbly  born  youth  at  last  became  the  chief  states- 
man of  the  Porphyrian  nation.  The  promise  of  success 
which  the  vision  had  made  to  him  had  been  fulfilled 
more  amply  than  he  could  possibly  have  dreamed.  He 
had  not  nearly  reached  middle  age,  and  he  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  government  of  his  country. 

All  this  was  the  history  of  his  outward  life,  and  his 
name  was  quoted  to  point  the  proverbs  of  success. 
When  a  father  had  an  able  and  ambitious  boy,  he 
described  the  career  of  Faber  to  spur  him  on  to  fresh 
exertions.  Faber's  picture  was  placed  in  the  hall  of 
the  school  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  that  the 
example  of  his  successful  diligence  might  stir  the  lads 
to  aim  at  similar  results.  He  was  the  leading  man  of 
his  day,  and  the  popular  hero  among  the  multitudes 
of  his  fellow-countrymen. 


But  was  he  happy  ? 

He  lived  for  politics,  for  party,  for  power  ;  but  this 
question  would  sometimes  force  itself  upon  him, '  Am  I 
happy  ?  '  And  he  could  not  disguise  from  himself  the 
answer  that  he  was  not. 

For  he  found  in  his  lot,  and  had  created  for  himself 
in  choosing  that  lot,  many  drawbacks. 

He  learnt  by  experience  that  power  itself  is  a  very 
relative  word.  From  the  nature  of  things  he  could 
never  be  an  autocrat.  He  had  to  work  with  human 
materials,  and  he  found  that  human  beings  are  a  very 


144  ALLEGORIES 

unmalleable  iron,  or,  at  best,  a  very  stubborn  clay. 
There  were  hundreds  of  things  which  he  would  have 
liked  to  do,  and  which  he  clearly  saw  to  be  the  right 
things  to  do,  but  in  which  he  was  thwarted  by  the 
opinionativeness  of  critics,  the  jealousy  of  rivals,  the 
incompetence  of  subordinates.  In  consequence  of  this 
he  was  often  mortified  by  being  compelled  to  abandon 
his  most  cherished  designs.  He  used  laughingly  to 
complain  that  he  was  driven  back  from  many  a  striking 
plan  by  the  bovine  resoluteness  of  infallible  ignorance 
and  horned  stupidity. 

The  same  want  of  adequate  support  threw  upon 
him  a  terrible  amount  of  labour.  There  was  much  of 
his  correspondence  to  which,  from  its  nature,  he  was 
compelled  personally  to  attend.  He  sometimes  said  to 
himself,  '  I  am  chained  to  my  desk  as  much  as  if  I  were 
a  clerk.'  At  times  he  had  to  work  twelve  hours  a  day, 
till  his  head  and  his  hand  alike  were  aching. 

He  also  felt  a  terrible  burden  of  responsibility. 
The  decisions  which  depended  on  his  judgment 
were  of  the  most  complicated  character,  and  involved 
stupendous  issues.  He  was  not  infallible.  He  could 
not  know  everything.  He  was  liable  to  be  deceived. 
It  was  inevitable  that  he  should  sometimes  be  led  into 
mistakes,  and  it  made  him  miserable  to  think  that, 
even  when  those  mistakes  were  chiefly  due  to  the  careless- 
ness or  inferiority  of  his  colleagues,  political  exigencies 
compelled  him  to  defend  them.  The  blame  of  them 
Was  thrown  upon  him,  though  in  the  inner  councils  of  the 
government  he  might  have  done  his  utmost  to  oppose 


THE   CHOICE  145 

them.  There  were  times  when  extreme  anxiety  almost 
broke  down  his  health.  He  felt 

Desperate  currents  of  a  whole  world's  anguish 
Forced  through  the  channel  of  a  single  heart. 

He  saw  around  him  grave  conditions  of  evil,  both 
social  and  foreign,  which  it  was  wholly  beyond  his 
power  to  amend. 

Then  he  felt,  like  the  rankling  of  a  viper's  tooth, 
the  sting  of  ingratitude.  Men  whose  fortunes  he  had 
made  deserted  him  for  the  claims  of  self-interest. 
Men  whom  he  had  assisted,  secretly  vilified  him.  He 
could  not  help  wincing  under  the  unmeasured  scurrility 
of  the  attacks  made  upon  him  in  public  journals. 
Because  he  was  more  foresighted  than  most,  arid  spoke 
the  truth,  and  did  his  duty,  he  had  to  thwart  many 
vested  interests  in  falsehood  and  wickedness,  and  in  con- 
sequence he  had  to  face  measureless  insult,  and  to  pass 
through  tornadoes  of  abuse.  It  sometimes  seemed  to 
him  as  if  no  calumny  were  too  monstrous  for  envy  to 
believe,  no  misrepresentation  too  gross  to  pass  cur- 
rent among  the  commonplace,  the  envious,  and  the 
malignant.  He  felt  almost  driven  to  adopt  the  remark 
of  a  brilliant  President  that  '  the  more  familiar  he 
grew  with  human  nature,  the  deeper  was  the  respect 
he  felt  for  his  dog.'  He  used  to  tell  the  story  of  the 
great  philosopher  who,  being  asked  on  his  deathbed  by 
a  fussy  interloper,  '  Are  you  convinced  of  the  greatness 
of  God  ?  '  answered, '  Yes,  and  of  the  littleness  of  man ! ' 

On  one  occasion  he,  the  once  so  popular  minister, 

L 


146  ALLEGORIES 

was  actually  hooted  in  the  public  streets,  was  sur- 
rounded by  an  angry  mob,  and  had  to  be  hurried 
into  a  private  house  to  protect  him  from  insult  and 
attack.  He  found  that  his  fame  brought  him  no 
definable  satisfaction.  He  learnt  by  experience  that 
the  higher  is  the  mountain,  the  more  violently  do  the 
storms  burst  upon  it. 

These  were  incidents  in  his  public  career.  In  his 
private  life  there  were  equally  serious  drawbacks, 
caused  by  the  absorbing  demands  of  his  public 
position.  He  had  little  or  no  leisure,  and  was  unable 
to  find  time  for  the  intellectual  pursuits  and  amuse- 
ments in  which  he  would  otherwise  have  delighted. 
His  marriage  had  unhappily  been  influenced  by  party 
considerations.  He  had  wedded  the  daughter  of  a 
noble  family,  whose  interest,  he  thought,  would  greatly 
aid  him  in  his  career  of  ambition.  His  wife  was 
neither  pre-eminently  beautiful,  nor  gifted,  nor  high- 
minded.  The  one  thing  on  which  she  prided  herself 
was  her  aristocratic  birth.  She  repelled  by  her  chill 
hauteur  many  of  his  earlier  friends,  whom  she  regarded 
as  plebeian  ;  and,  worse  than  this,  she  skilfully  coDtrived 
to  keep  at  a  distance  the  members  of  his  own  family 
of  whose  humbler  position  she  felt  ashamed.  Faber 
had  a  loving  heart,  and  as  he  could  not  let  his  family 
into  the  secrets  of  his  wife's  subtle  manoeuvres,  he 
felt  that  they  looked  on  him  as  one  whose  prosperity 
had  made  him  ashamed  of  them.  Nor  did  his  wife's 
affection  make  up  to  him  for  what  he  had  lost.  She 
was  virtuous,  but  of  a  cold  disposition,  and,  though  she 


THE   CHOICE  147 

was  proud  of  her  distinguished  husband,  she  could  not 
become  a  real  companion  for  him. 

Worse  still,  his  absences  from  home,  his  long 
foreign  missions,  and  his-  incessant  occupations  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  see  much  of  his  children.  In 
consequence  of  this  he  had  but  little  influence  over  his 
boys,  and  he  saw  them  growing  up  with  tastes  and 
opinions  greatly  unlike  his  own.  His  was  a  heart 
which  yearned  for  sympathy,  and  the  fact  that  even  his 
sons  seemed  to  know  but  little  of  his  tenderness  was  a 
constant  grief  to  him. 

At  last  he  became  troubled  with  insomnia,  and 
spent  long  nights  unrefreshed  in  the  worry  of  incessant 
cares.  This  made  him  intensely  miserable,  and  wore 
out  his  strength  before  his  time. 

Even  his  triumphs  gave  him  but  little  gratification. 
The  novelty  of  power,  the  glamour  of  rank,  were  soon 
exhausted.  If  in  one  great  speech  or  skilful  combination 
he  was  successful,  he  had  at  once  to  consider  the  next. 
The  publicity  of  his  life  palled  upon  him,  and  he  was 
wearied  with  incessant  appeals  for  his  influence  or  his 
gifts.  He  felt  it  quite  refreshing' if  here  and  there  he 
found  some  man  whose  admiration  and  support  were 
purely  disinterested ;  who  wanted  nothing  from  him, 
but,  loving  him  for  his  own  sake,  cared  neither  to  court 
nor  flatter  him.  He  felt  more  and  more  isolated  as 
time  went  on. 

Worst  of  all,  his  cares  and  duties  drove  out  of  his 
mind  the  more  serious  concerns  of  a  life  beyond. 
Conscientious  and  honourable,  he  yet  felt  that  he  was 

L    2 


148  ALLEGORIES 

often  tempted  to  strain  his  conscience,  and  dim  the 
delicate  bloom  of  his  honour.  He  had  thought  of 
many  needful  things,  but  what  if  death  should  snatch 
him  away  from  earthly  business, 

As  a  cross  nurse  might  snatch  a  fretful  child 
From  all  his  toys  and  baubles, 

and  surprise  him  amid  entire  neglect  of  the  one  thing 
which  was  most  needful  of  all  ?  He  could  not  but  feel 
that  it  would  have  been  far  better  for  him,  if  he  had  left 
the  destinies  of  his  life  in  higher  hands,  and  the  sad 
verses  of  a  poet  rang  in  his  memory, 

Aus  der  Jugendzeit,  aus  der  Jugendzeit 

Klingt  ein  Lied  mir  immerdar. 
O  wie  liegt  so  weit,  0  wie  liegt  so  weit 

Was  rnein  einst  war  1 

While  this  mood  was  upon  him,  a  period  of  rest 
became  necessary  to  recruit  his  strength  and  bring  back 
his  vanished  sleep. 

He  yearned  to  revisit  the  seaside  village  of  which 
he  had  admired  the  secluded  loveliness  with  his  two 
friends  in  his  happy  youth.  He  went  there,  accom- 
panied only  by  a  young  secretary  who  was  sincerely 
attached  to  him,  and,  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival,  he 
wandered  alone  to  the  headland  where  he  had  made 
the  choice  which  decided  the  destiny  of  his  life. 

It  was  a  lovely  peaceful  evening.  The  quiet  sea, 
almost  unbroken  by  a  ripple,  lying  under  the  crimson 
flood  of  sunset  light,  seemed  to  breathe  from  its  broad 
expanse  '  the  ardours  of  rest  and  love.'  He  was  no 
longer  agile  enough  to  climb  down  the  rocks  to  the  far 


THE   CHOICE  149 

point  where  he  had  once  meditated,  but  he  went  as 
near  it  as  he  could.  He  sat  down  full  of  melancholy 
and  looked  at  the  tulip  mark  on  his  breast.  It  was 
there  ;  but  it  had  lost  its  dazzling  brightness.  He 
sighed  deeply.  '  If  I  had  the  choice  to  make  again,'  he 
said  to  himself,  '  should  I  choose  power?  I  think  not.' 

'  Would  you  rescind  your  wish  ? '  said  a  low  voice  be- 
side him.  '  Would  you  resign  its  fruits  ?  Should  you  be 
content  after  all  to  end  your  days  forgotten  and  obscure  ?  ' 

'  What  is  there  for  me  as  it  is  ? '  he  answered 
humbly,  '  but 

To  leave  a  half-remembered  name, 
Cumbered  with  lies,  and  dark  with  shame  ? 

Spirit,  I  have  learned  to  distrust  myself  and  my  own 
ignorance  ;  but,  if  it  be  good  for  me,  recall  thy  gift ;  if 
not,  let  me  humbly  and  bravely  follow  my  own  unwise 
choice  to  its  predestined  close.' 

'  Not  every  choice,  not  every  act  in  life  is  past  remedy 
in  its  final  issues,'  said  the  spirit  gently.  '  Open  thy 
robe  once  more.'  He  touched  him  where  the  tulip  was, 
and  his  touch  seemed  to  be  of  ice.  '  The  sign  is  gone 
now,'  he  said.  '  Return  to  the  humble  life,  and  seek 
for  peace  ;  take  no  step  of  thine  own ;  all  shall  be 
arranged  for  thee.' 

*  I  thank  thee,  spirit,'  he  murmured,  and  after  a  few 
more  days  of  rest  he  returned  home.  Could  he  indeed 
give  up  his  power  and  position  without  a  pang  ?  Yes. 
Had  not  one  great  emperor  of  the  world  found  himself 
far  happier  in  his  self-corrected  mind,  when  he  was 
planting  cabbages  at  Salona,  than  when  he  wielded  the 


150  ALLEGORIES 

imperial  fasces pf  the  world  ?  And  had  not  another,  after 
laying  aside  the  crown  of  many  kingdoms,  amused  him- 
self with  making  clocks,  and,  since  he  could  make  no 
two  clocks  keep  the  same  time,  learnt  how  impossible 
had  been  his  effort  to  make  all  men  take  the  same  views 
of  things  as  himself  ? 

He  returned  to  his  place  in  the  Senate,  and  rose  to 
speak  on  a  public  measure  of  the  highest  importance. 
But  while  he  spoke  he  felt  his  mind  suddenly  grow 
dim  and  confused.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 
hesitated,  stammered,  lost  the  thread  of  his  argument, 
talked  nonsense,  and  at  last,  amid  the  profound  and 
pained  astonishment  of  his  listeners,  hopelessly  broke 
down. 

The  next  morning  there  was  a  leading  article  in  the 
chief  Porphyrian  journal,  contemptuously  alluding  to 
his  failure,  and  remarking  what  a  pity  it  was  that  men 
would  not  recognise  in  time  their  growing  imbecility, 
but  would  cling  to  the  gains  of  office  long  after  they 
were  incompetent  to  fulfil  its  duties. 

Faber,  to  his  own'astonishment,  read  the  article  with 
a  smile.  The  same  day  he  wrote  to  resign  his  seat  in  the 
ministry.  He  retired  into  private  life,  and  devoted  him- 
self without  a  regret  to  the  study  of  literature,  to  the  care 
of  his  family,  to  the  good  of  his  neighbours.  He  found  in 
the  shade  of  his  garden  a  peace  which  the  glare  of  fame 
had  never  given  him.  In  the  days  of  his  immense  power, 
in  the  days  of  his  splendid  success,  he  had  never  been 
ignoble,  never  once  consciously  dishonourable ;  but  he 
had  suffered  the  wings  of  his  aspirations  to  be  soiled  as 


THE   CHOICE  151 

are  the  wings  of  the  eastern  dove  when  she  settles  upon 
the  dust-heaps  of  the  villages  ;  and  it  is  only  when  she 
soars  again  into  the  blue  air  and  abounding  sunshine 
that  we  see  how  she  is  '  covered  with  silver  wings, 
and  her  feathers  like  gold.'  And  now  in  his  seclusion 
and  dethronement  as  it  were,  he  often  murmured  to 
himself  the  words  of  the  ardent  saint,  Deargentemus 
pennas  ('Let  us  silver  our  soul's  wings '). 

And  one  day  when  he  heard  his  boys  talking  of  their 
ambitious  hopes  he  told  them  how  once  an  old  man  had 
heard  two  youths  sighing  for  fame,  success,  power,  and 
had  opened  his  arms  wide  three  times  and  folded  them 
again  upon  his  breast.  '  Why  do  you  do  that  ?  '  they 
inquired.  '  I  have  what  you  desired,'  said  the  old 
man  ;  *  I  have  grasped  the  wind  !  ' 

He  passed  away  in  peace  from  a  world  in  which  he 
was  already  half  forgotten  ;  and  once  when  Fidelis,  with 
whom  he  had  always  kept  up  his  friendship,  came  to 
stay  with  him,  and  talked  to  him  about  his  past  career, 
he  said,  '  Fidelis,  I  wonder  whether  you  still  retain  your 
boyish  fondness  for  the  words  of  the  poets  ?  If  you  do 
you  will  recall  some  familiar  lines  which  will  tell  you 
all  about  me.' 

'  I  think  I  do,'  said  Fidelis. 

And  then  Faber,  holding  his  hand  in  a  friendly 
grasp,  said  in  a  low  voice, 

'  His  overthrow  heaped  happiness  upon  him  ; 
For  then,  and  not  till  then,  he  felt  himself, 
And  found  the  blessedness  of  being  little. 
And,  to  add  greater  honours  to  his  age 
Than  man  could  give  him,  he  died  fearing  God.' 


152  ALLEGORIES 

Y 

FESTUS 

He  f  eedeth  on  ashes  :  a  deceived  heart  hath  turned  him  aside,  that 
he  cannot  deliver  his  soul. — Is.  xliv.  20. 

Tanto  giu  cadde,  che  tutti  argomenti 
Alia  salute  sua  eran  gia  corti. 

DANTE,  Purg.  xxx.  136. 

ON  the  career  of  Festus  we  will  not  dwell  at  length,  for 
it  was  one  of  those  deplorable  and  apparently  irredeem- 
able shipwrecks  upon  which  the  curtain  '  comes  down 
with  the  rush  of  a  storm,'  and  leaves  us  silent.  The 
thing  which  he  had  chosen  was  given  him,  but  he  had 
already  had  an  intimation  that  'the  gifts  of  the  evil 
genii  are  curses  in  disguise.'  Almost  immediately  after 
his  return  to  the  great  city,  and  before  he  had  got  ac- 
customed to  the  wearying  routine  of  business  in  which 
he  had  resentfully  thought  that  his  years  would  be 
spent,  he  received  a  letter  to  tell  him  that  a  distant 
relative,  of  whom  he  hardly  knew  anything,  had  died, 
and  had  most  unexpectedly  left  him  the  heir  to  an 
immense  fortune.  The  career  of  pleasure,  or  what 
he  regarded  as  pleasure,  was  thus  immediately  open 
to  him,  and  he  eagerly  embraced  it.  He  at  once 
entered  into  possession  of  a  splendid  town  house,  and 
of  a  mansion  in  the  country,  both  of  which,  though 
they  were  already  furnished  with  every  luxury,  he  made 
still  more  sumptuous.  He  then  plunged  without  re- 
straint into  a  course  of  headlong  dissipation.  He  lived 


THE   CHOICE  153 

solely  for  amusement,  for  excitement,  for  selfish  in- 
dulgence, for  the  gratification  of  his  lowest  self  and  his 
meanest  impulses.  His  table  was  that  of  an  epicure ; 
he  drank  habitually  and  to  shameful  excess  the  choicest 
wines ;  he  lived  in  the  centre  of  a  society  of  the 
gilded  youth  who  acted  on  the  notion  that,  life  being 
short  and  death  without  remedy,  the  only  object  of 
human  beings  should  be  to  make  it  less  tedious,  even 
though  no  more  should  remain  of  its  transient  mirth 
than  of  a  mist  smitten  by  the  sun.  Their  practical 
exhortation  to  each  other  was, '  Let  none  of  us  go  with- 
out his  part  of  our  voluptuousness  ;  let  us  leave  tokens 
of  our  joyfulness  in  every  place  ;  for  this  is  our  portion 
and  our  lot.'  Betting,  gambling,  racing,  extravagance, 
the  frequenting  of  low  society,  the  hunting  for  new 
sensations,  the  devising  of  excitements  ever  more 
dubious  and  more  disgraceful  in  their  shamelessness, 
occupied  their  ill-spent  and  degraded  days.  At  all 
innocence  they  sneered  as  at  a  mere  hypocritical 
semblance,  the  infatuation  of  bigots  and  weaklings. 
For  the  loss  of  character  they  cared  nothing,  for  they 
ostentatiously  paraded  the  dissoluteness  which  they 
attempted  to  elevate  into  a  new  philosophy.  They 
contented  themselves  with  such  society  as  they  could 
find  among  those  who  were  as  abandoned  and  as 
shameless  as  themselves.  Yet,  after  all,  their  days  were 
unspeakably  listless  and  weary,  for  even  their  most 
exciting  dissipations  soon  palled  upon  them  ;  they  were 

the  delights 
That  speedy  die  and  turn  to  carrion. 


154  ALLEGORIES 

A  certain  selfish  and  voluptuous  king  used  sometimes  to 
take  one  of  his  courtiers  by  the  buttonhole  and  say  to 
him,  '  Ennuyons-nous  ensemble.'  But  Festus  and  his 
bad  companions,  hating  any  interspace  of  time  which 
might  leave  them  liable  to  guilty  memories,  silent 
self-reproach,  and  dark  anticipations,  tried  to  live  in 
one  whirl  of  excitement  which,  after  all,  they  felt  to 
be  worse  than  pleasureless. 

Not  many  years  elapsed  before  the  threshold  of 
Festus,  whether  in  town  or  country,  had  ceased  to  be 
passed  by  any  high-minded  man.  His  name  among  all 
those  who  honoured  virtue  became  a  byword  of  pity 
and  contempt.  He  lived  with  loose  inferiors — boon 
companions  bound  to  him  by  associations  of  folly  and 
of  sin.  As  a  matter  of  course  he  did  not  escape  the 
consequences  of  his  misdeeds. 

He  became  prematurely  old  and  prematurely  grey. 
Soon  nothing  was  left  behind  of  his  pleasures  except  the 
haggard  misery  they  had  wrought.  His  appetite  was 
sated  and  jaded,  and  Pleasure  could  please  no  more.  The 
world's  experience  has  fixed  on  the  right  nomenclature 
for  such  lives  and  such  self-avengers.  They  are  lives 
of  dissipation — that  is,  of  utter  rout  and  scattering  of 
the  true  forces  of  existence.  He  who  thus  lives  is  a 
physical  and  a  moral  and  spiritual  bankrupt.  He  is 
a  roue — broken  on  the  wheel ; — a  debauche,  a  man 
swept  away  by  the  rushing  tide  of  temptations  which 
become  as  avenging  furies  to  themselves,  and  appear 
to  their  victims  no  longer  in  radiant  vesture,  but  with 
snaky  hair  and  shaken  torch. 


THE   CHOICE  155 

The  beauty  of  Festus  had  long  vanished  from  his 
flaccid  and  unhealthy  face.  His  strength  was  dried 
up  like  a  potsherd ;  his  health  was  undermined ;  he 
began,  terribly  early,  to  possess  the  sins  of  his  youth. 
He  was  '  lord  of  himself '  as  he  had  chosen  to  make,  or 
rather  to  unmake,  himself  ;  and  he  found  it  an  heritage 
of  unspeakable  woe.  And  so,  day  by  day,  he  sank 
down  inevitably  to  the  lowest  depths.  The  sweeping 
whirlwind  had  burst  upon  the  bark  which  had  started 
in  gilded  trim,  with  youth  at  the  prow  and  pleasure  at 
the  helm  ;  and  it  was  now  a  hopeless  shipwreck. 

Fidelis  had  barely  seen  him  since  their  boyish  tour  ; 
for  Festus,  when  he  had  sprung  into  abnormal  wealth, 
affected  to  look  down  upon  his  former  companions,  and 
neither  Faber  nor  Fidelis  cared  to  keep  up  any  ac- 
quaintance with  one  who,  defying  all  remonstrances, 
shamelessly  set  an  execrable  example  and  poisoned  the 
moral  atmosphere  around  him.  But  one  day  Fidelis 
received  an  urgent  message  that  he  would  visit  one  of 
the  wards  of  a  great  hospital,  for  a  man  who  was  very 
ill  was  urgently  desirous  to  see  him. 

He  went  at  once.  In  the  miserable  figure  out- 
stretched before  him,  he  entirely  failed  to  recognise  his 
once  bright  and  attractive  schoolfellow.  Festus  fixed 
his  gaze  upon  him  and  faintly  whispered  his  name. 

Fidelis  looked  at  the  sunk  eyes ;  at  the  sallow  and 
wasted  cheeks ;  at  the  expression  full  of  shame  and 
weariness  ;  at  the  unwholesome  and  degenerate  face. 

'  Do  you  know  me  ?  '  he  asked  in  surprise.  '  I  do 
not  remember  you.' 


156  ALLEGORIES 

'  Do  you  not  ?  '  said  Festus  humbly.  '  I  cannot 
wonder  at  it.  Yet  once,  many  years  ago,  we  were 
equals  and  daily  companions.  And  now  my  bad  career 
is  run,  and  I  am  here  helpless,  hopeless,  homeless, 
friendless,  penniless,  in  utter  despair,  and  sick  even 
unto  death.' 

'  Surely,'  answered  Fidelis  slowly,  '  surely  this 
cannot  be  Festus  ?  ' 

'It  is ;  or  what  was  once  Festus.  Miserrimus 
would  now  be  a  better  name.  Oh,  Fidelis,'  he  said, 
'  I  remember  that  when  we  were  happy  boys  together, 
you  loved  poetry.  I  recall  some  lines  which  a  poet 
wrote  on  his  thirty-sixth  birthday,  and  they  are 
frightfully  true  of  me  : 

My  days  are  in  the  yellow  leaf, 
The  flowers,  the  fruits  of  love  are  gone  ; 

The  worm,  the  canker,  and  the  grief 
Are  mine  alone. 

The  fire  that  on  my  bosom  preys 

Is  lone  as  some  volcanic  isle; 
No  warmth  is  kindled  at  the  blaze — 

A  funeral  pile.'  , 

'  But  how  came  you  here  ?  I  thought  you  were 
very  rich.' 

*  I  was ;  but  my  riches  have  long  ago  been  evilly 
and  senselessly  squandered.' 

'  Can  I  do  anything  to  help  you  ?  ' 

'  I  fear  it  is  too  late,'  moaned  Festus.  '  The  physician 
tells  me  that  my  life  is  in  danger.  Friends  I  have  none. 
My  few  relatives  have  long  disowned  me.  I  felt  so 


THE   CHOICE  157 

unutterably  wretched  that  I  was  filled  with  an  intense 
yearning  to  see  one  good  man,  who  had  known  me  in 
better  and  happier  days.  You  are  very  kind  to  have 
come  to  me.' 

'  I  should  have  been  very  mean  and  selfish  if  I  had 
not  come,'  said  Fidelis.  '  But  now  tell  me  what  I  can 
do  to  help  or  to  comfort  you.' 

'  Fidelis,'  said  Festus,  '  you  will  perhaps  hardly 
believe  that  years  have  passed  since  I  have  prayed,  or 
ever  even  heard  a  prayer.  I  tried  to  forget  the  very 
existence  of  King  Elyon.  I  have  so  long  ceased  to 
pray  that  I  know  not  how.  Will  you  kneel  and  pray 
for  me  ?  ' 

Fidelis  knelt  and  prayed.  Festus  was  too  ill  to  say 
much,  but  he  faintly  moaned,  '  Can  there  be  any  hope 
for  such  a  one  as  I  ?  ' 

'  I  trust  in  the  mercy  of  Elyon,'  said  Fidelis,  '  for 
ever  and  beyond.' 

'  May  He  be  merciful  to  me  the  sinner !  '  said 
Festus,  in  a  voice  almost  inaudible.  He  heaved  a  sigh 
and  lay  as  one  dead. 

'You  had  better  leave  him  now,'  said  the  physician 
who  was  watching  him.  '  His  strength  is  completely 
exhausted.' 

Fidelis  looked  at  him  with  deep  compassion. 
He  noticed  with  surprise  a  livid  stain  upon  his  breast. 
It  bore  the  semblance  of  a  withered,  crumpled,  leaden- 
coloured  lotus  flower. 


158  ALLEGORIES 


VI 

FIDELIS 

A  good  man  shall  be  satisfied  from  himself. — Prov.  xiv.  14. 

Libero,  dritto,  sano,  e  tuo  arbitrio 

E  fallo  fora  non  fare  a  suo  senno  ; 

Per  ch'  io  te  sopra  te  corono  e  mitrio. 

DANTE,  Purgat.  xxvii.  140. 

WHEN  Fidelis  had  returned  with  his  two  youthful 
companions  to  begin  the  business  of  his  life,  no  such 
'  stroke  of  fortune/  as  men  call  it,  had  occurred  to  him 
as  to  them.  He  had  gone  into  business  and  his  days 
were  quietly  occupied  with  its  duties.  He  had  set 
before  himself  the  conviction  that  life  is  service.  He 
believed  that  he  was  not  meant  to  live  for  himself  or  as 
an  isolated  atom.  He  belonged  to  the  great  family  of 
man,  and  thought  that  he  could  do  nothing  nobler  or 
happier  than  to  live  and  die  for  them.  As  a  youth  he 
did  all  he  could  in  his  leisure  hours  to  brighten  the 
days  of  the  young,  to  uplift  their  aspirations,  to  make 
the  wretched  less  miserable,  and  '  to  add  sunlight  to 
daylight  by  making  the  happy  happier.'  He  still  set 
the  same  ideal  before  him  when  his  diligence  and 
faithfulness  won  for  him  trust  and  promotion,  and 
through  useful,  uneventful  years  of  peace  and  of  duty, 
he  rose  step  by  step,  slowly  but  surely,  to  easy  compe- 
tence, and  then  to  as  much  wealth  as  he  desired.  He 


THE   CHOICE  159 

married  a  wife  of  like  mind  with  himself,  and  they 

two 

Walked  this  world 
Yoked  in  all  exercise  of  noble  end, 
And  so  through  those  dark  gates  across  the  wild 
Which  no  man  knows. 

He  lived  among  his  children,  enjoyed  their  happiness, 
tried  to  influence  their  lives  for  worthy  aims.  He  did 
his  utmost  to  'lend  ardour  to  virtue,  and  confidence 
to  truth.' 

Being  fearless  in  the  cause  of  righteousness, 
like  every  other  true  man,  he  did  not  escape  the  ex- 
asperated opposition  of  the  votaries  of  shams,  cruelty, 
and  greed.  Yet  he  was  happy  ;  for  though  at  times 
he  seemed  to  be  walking  with  his  head  '  in  a  cloud  of 
poisonous  flies,'  the  humble  consciousness  of  sincerity 
supported  him,  and  he  never  ceased  '  to  wear  the  herb 
called  heartsease  in  his  bosom.' 

No  attacks  made  him  swerve  from  the  path  of  self- 
imposed  duty,  and,  as  years  went  on,  his  friends  became 
ever  more  grateful  and  more  numerous,  and  his  enemies 
relapsed  into  silence  from  very  shame. 

His  life  was  not,  of  course,  exempt  from  those 
natural  trials  which  come  to  all.  To  no  man  can  life 
be  like  a  summer  holiday.  But  amid  the  trials  which 
befall  even  the  just  and  the  upright  there  springs  up 
always  the  panacea,  the  healing  balm.  There  were 
many  men  much  wealthier  than  Fidelis.  He  won  for 
himself  no  distinguished  honours ;  he  earned  no  title, 
and  very  little  public  applause ;  but  every  day  he  was 


160  ALLEGOEIES 

useful  to  some  one,  and  all  his  days  were  filled  with 
little,  unremembered,  unconsidered,  acts  of  kindness, 
and  words  and  deeds  of  sympathy.  Thus  the  life  of 
Fidelis  was  full  indeed  of  balm  and  blessedness.  He 
gradually  won  general  affection  by  his  many  unobtrusive 
benefactions.  Multitudes  in  the  Purple  Island  felt 
that  they  had  been  the  better  for  his  efforts,  and  love 
and  honour  lay  like  a  beam  of  light  athwart  the  sunset 
days  of  a  life  well  spent.  His  name  was  mentioned 
with  gratitude  in  the  homes  of  those  who  earned  their 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow.  He  knew  by  personal 
experience  how  truly 

The  high  desire  that  others  may  be  blest 
Savours  of  heaven. 


VII 

io  mi  rendei' 

Piangendo  a  quei  che  \olontier  perdona. 
Orribil  furon  li  peccati  raiei, 

Ma  la  bonta  infinita  ha  si  gran  braccia, 
Che  prende  cio,  che  si  rivolge  a  lei. 

DANTE,  Purgat.  iii.  120. 

Yea,  thou  forgivest ;  but  with  all  forgiving 

Canst  not  restore  mine  innocence  again.— F.  MYERS. 

FESTUS  had  gained  from  the  visit  of  Fidelis  a  fresh 
access  of  hope  and  strength.  The  dying  flame  of  life 
seemed  to  leap  up  from  its  white  embers  as  though  for 
one  last  flickering  gleam.  It  was  even  thought  that 
he  might  partially  recover,  if  he  could  be  removed  to 


THE   CHOICE  161 

the  seaside.  Directly  Fidelis  heard  this  he  furnished 
what  was  necessary  to  send  him  down  to  the  village 
which  he  had  visited  in  his  youth,  a  place  which  he  had 
expressed  a  yearning  to  see  again,  and  where  he  could 
enjoy  perfect  quiet  and  the  purest  air. 

On  the  same  evening  that  Faber  had  been  sitting  on 
the  rocks  and  had  been  permitted  to  reverse  an  unwise 
choice,  Festus,  very  pale  and  very  feeble,  walked  in  the 
warm  evening  air  to  the  spot  on  the  green  moss  where 
he  had  sat  on  that  former  evening  so  long  ago. 

His  mind  was  full  of  penitence  and  gloom  as  he 
sat  looking  on  the  sea,  and  revolving  the  memories 
of  his  life  which  were  unspeakable  for  sadness.  The 
brightness  without,  the  waters  flashing  as  with  millions 
of  diamonds,  the  clouds  smitten  here  and  there  by 
the  sunlight  into  flakes  of  rainbow,  could  not  dispel 
the  blackness  of  thick  darkness  within  his  soul.  But 
suddenly  he  heard  a  laugh,  merry  but  mocking,  and 
Naama,  whose  evil  fascination  had  planted  the  germs 
of  ruin  into  his  youth,  gleamed  before  his  eyes.  Had 
she  come  to  taunt  him,  to  triumph  over  him  ?  It  was 
even  so  ! 

'  Well,'  she  said,  '  see  how  fairly  I  have  treated  you  ! 
Your  wish  was  fulfilled — was  it  not  ?  You  asked  for 
pleasure  ;  you  have  had  it  to  the  full.  You  have  drunk 
the  cup  of  enjoyment  down  to  the  bitter  and  ragged  lees. 
You  began  as  a  fair  youth  ;  you  end  as  a  withered  man. 
Have  you  enjoyed  the  boon  I  conferred  on  you  ?  ' 

'  Avaunt,  witch  and  demon  !  '  said  Festus. 

'  No,  no  !  '  said  Naama.  '  What  !  were  you  such  a 

M 


162  ALLEGORIES 

fool  as  to  think  that  you  could  commit  the  sin  and  not 
pay  the  penalty  ?  Did  none  of  your  old  books — I  don't 
mean  the  lewd  fictions/  she  added  with  another  laugh — 
1  ever  tell  you  that  vice  and  punishment  are  twins,  who 
walk  the  world  with  their  heads  tied  together  ?  Oh, 
fool,  fool,  fool  ! ' 

Festus  was  still  silent,  though  his  heart  was 
breaking,  for  his  conscience  echoed  the  word  'fool.' 
Yes,  and  he  felt  that,  as  a  fool,  he  had  been  filled 
with  the  fruit  of  his  own  devices. 

'  You  have  had  your  choice,'  sneered  the  mocking 
spirit.  '  It  cannot  be  recalled  ;  you  are  ours  ;  and  now 
I  can  reveal  secrets,  and  show  you  what  I  am  in  my 
true  shape.  Look  ! ' 

The  female  form,  the  enchanting  face,  melted  away, 
and  Naama  began  before  his  eyes  to  assume  her  true 
and  revolting  aspect ;  a  siren  no  longer,  but  a  withered 
witch  with  distorted  feet  and  yellow  hands,  hideous 
and  execrable. 

Festus  rose  with  overpowering  horror  and  affright, 
and,  even  as  he  rose,  a  voice,  which  thrilled  through 
him  like  a  lightning  flash,  exclaimed  : 

'  Hence,  evil  one  ! ' 

As  though  smitten  by  a  thunderbolt,  Naama 
instantly  vanished. 

There  was  a  pause  which  Festus  dared  not  break, 
and  then  the  voice,  which  had  now  changed  to  tones 
of  the  deepest  compassion,  seemed  to  say  to  him,  *  The 
tender  mercies  of  the  demons  are  cruel,  Festus,  and 
their  sorcery  destructive.' 


THE   CHOICE 


163 


He  turned.     An    old    man  stood  beside   him,  and 
Festus  fell  upon  his  knees. 

'  What  fruit  have  you,'  asked  the  vision,  '  in  those 


FESTUS    FELL    UPON    HIS    KNEES 


things  whereof  you  are  now  ashamed  ?     For  the  end  of 
those  things  is  death.' 


M    2 


164  ALLEGORIES 

'  Oh,  to  recall  my  choice  !  Oh,  that  I  might  have 
my  youth  again ! '  moaned  Festus. 

*  That  may  not  be  ! '  said  the  old  man.  '  The  past 
is  irrevocable  even  by  Omnipotence.  The  thing  that 
hath  been,  remains.' 

'  Then  I  am  lost !  '  murmured  Festus.  '  I  must 
depart  into  the  everlasting  night.' 

'  Go  forth  into  the  night,'  said  the  sage,  '  but  let  it 
be  to  meet  the  morning  dawn.  Hast  thou  repented?  ' 

'  I  repent,'  said  Festus.  '  I  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes.  I  abhor  myself.  But  of  what  use  is  repentance  ? 
The  sin  has  been  committed  ;  the  leprous  state  remains. 
Oh !  '  he  cried  in  accents  which  could  scarce  find  a 
passage  through  the  sobs  which  shook  his  frame,  as 
he  flung  himself  prostrate  upon  his  face,  grasping  the 
feet  of  his  reprover  and  wetting  them  with  tears,  '  I 
am  undone,  undone  !  Is  there  no  mercy  for  such  as 
I  am?' 

'  Rise,  unhappy  one,'  said  the  vision  ;  '  though  the 
past  is  irrevocable,  Elyon  can  give  thee  a  present  and 
a  future.  Though  the  old  heart  be  corroded,  he  who 
made  thee  can  create  in  thee  a  new  heart,  and  a  right 
spirit.  Thou  shalt  have  yet  a  few  more  years  to  live. 
Be  much  upon  thy  knees ;  seek  for  grace  to  purchase 
back  the  opportunity.' 

'  0  that  thou  wouldst  give  me  some  token  for 
good,  my  father,  0  my  father !  ' 

'  I  will,'  he  said ;  and  Festus  felt  on  his  breast  the 
touch  of  the  old  man's  cleansing  finger.  It  obliterated 
the  wrinkled  and  lurid  lotus  flower,  and  left  the  mark 


THE   CHOICE  165 

of  a  blood-red  cross.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  the 
head  of  the  poor  wretch,  and  the  touch,  as  though 
surcharged  with  blessing,  inspired  him  with  the  first 
gleam  of  hope  which  he  had  felt  for  many  days.  A 
sound  was  murmuring  in  his  ears  which  seemed  to  say, 
1  Kejoice  not  over  me,  mine  enemy,  for  when  I  fall 
I  shall  rise  again.' 


VIII 

All  his  thoughts 

Pleasant  as  roses  in  the  thickets  blown, 
And  pure  as  dew  bathing  their  crimson  leaves. 

WORDSWORTH. 

THAT  same  evening  by  another  path  Fidelis  also  had 
wandered  to  the  top  of  the  headland.  He  had  not  sat 
there  many  minutes  when  he  was  conscious  of  the 
Presence  by  his  side. 

1  It  is  many  years,  my  son,'  said  the  sage  with  a 
smile,  '  since  you  sat  here  last,  and  I  was  commissioned 
then  to  make  you  great  offers.  Do  you  regret  that  you 
refused  them?  You  might  have  been  rich,  eminent, 
famous  at  a  bound — and  you  are  not !  ' 

'But  I  am  content,'  said  Fidelis,  with  a  happy 
smile,  '  and  that  is  more  than  all.  I  have  what  has 
come  to  me  by  Elyon's  blessing.  I  do  not  regret,  my 
father,  that  I  left  the  choice  in  higher  hands.  I  have 
lived  a  very  happy  life.' 

'  Have  you  nothing  to  pray  for  ?  ' 

'  Oh,  many  things,'  said  Fidelis,  '  for  myself  and  for 


166  ALLEGORIES 

others  continually.  But  for  myself,  my  most  frequent 
petition  is  this :  "  Grant  me  to  do  thy  will,  0  Elyon, 
and  give  me  what  thou  seest  to  be  best." 

'  You  could  have  offered  no  more  blessed  prayer,' 
said  the  sage.  '  Let  me  look  at  the  mark  upon  your 
breast.'  He  opened  the  robe  of  Fidelis.  'Ah!'  he 
said,  '  I  see  the  pansy  there.  It  has  indeed  been  an 
amulet.  Its  colours  are  as  bright  and  fresh  as  when  I 
pressed  them  over  your  heart ;  nay,  brighter  and  more 
heavenly  is  their  beauty.  Happy  Fidelis  !  Farewell, 
we  shall  meet  again.  He  who  has  been  with  you 
hitherto  shall  remain  with  you  henceforth.  We  shall 
meet — I  know  you  love  the  words  of  the  poets,  my  son,' 
he  added,  with  a  smile — '  we  shall  meet 

'  In  regions  calm,  of  blue  and  serene  air, 
Above  the  smoke  and  stir  of  this  dim  spot 
Which  men  call  earth.' 


The  three  who  had  been  youths  together  chanced 
to  die  at  about  the  same  age. 

For  all  three  in  the  eventide  there  had  been  light, 
though  the  life  of  Fidelis  only  had  continued  its  un- 
broken tenor  and  been  golden  from  its  beginning  to  its 
close. 

Si  non  si  perde, 

Che  non  possa  tornar  1'  eterno  amore, 
Mentre  che  la  speranza  ha  fior  del  verde. 

DANTE,  Purgat.  iii.  133. 

They  met  once  more.  It  was  on  the  dark  barge, 
traversing  the  dark  sea,  and  their  eyes  gazed  together 


THE   CHOICE  169 

on  the  one  spot  on  the  far  horizon,  where,  to  some 
happy  eyes,  it  seemed  as  though  a  blaze  of  sunlight 
were  burning  for  evermore. 

'  Do  you  see  yonder  flood  of  light  ?  '  asked  Fidehs 
joyfully,  pointing  to  it  with  his  finger. 

'  I  do  !  '  said  Faber  in  a  voice  of  thanksgiving. 

Festus  raised  his  hands  to  his  eyes  and  gazed  long. 

'  My  eyes,'  he  murmured,  '  are  very,  very  dim  ;  but 
I  think — or  almost  think — that  I  can  see  a  distant 
glimmer.' 


170  ALLEGORIES 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL 
HOUSE1 

I 

THE  PALACE  OF  KING  DOEE88 

This  should  have  been  a  noble  creature.     He 
Hath  all  the  energy  which  should  have  made 
A  goodly  frame  of  glorious  elements, 
Had  they  been  wisely  mingled  ;  as  it  is, 
It  is  an  awful  chaos — light  and  darkness 
And  mind  and  dust. — BYRON,  Manfred. 

THE  demon  Ashmod  was  so  deadly  a  foe  of  the  Por- 
phyrian  race  that  he  was  usually  known  as  '  The 
Enemy,'  as  though  there  were  no  other.  Now  Ashmod 
had  acquired  many  thousands  of  years'  experience  of 
the  nature  of  life  in  the  Purple  Island.  He  was  con- 
sequently well  aware  that  prosperity,  though  it  went 
by  the  name  of  '  felicity,'  and  caused  men  to  receive 
the  '  felicitations  '  of  the  multitude,  was  often  leagues 
apart  from  happiness.  Yet  to  a  nature  like  his,  cankered 

1  In  this  allegory  some  readers  will  recognise  an  underlying  basis 
of  historic  incidents ;  but  the  characters  and  scenes  are  almost 
entirely  imaginary.  Prince  Innocens  and  other  characters  had  no  historic 
existence. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     171 

through  and  through  with  envy,  even  earthly  prosperity 
was  an  intolerable  spectacle.  He  never  saw  it  without 
a  mad  desire  to  undermine  and  destroy  it. 

Now  if  ever  there  was  a  king  who  seemed  to  have 
climbed  the  summits  of  human  prosperity,  it  was  King 
Doress  the  Magnificent. 

He  had  not  been  born  a  king,  but  had  risen  to  the 
throne  by  a  combination  of  warlike  genius  and  superb 
endowments.  He  was  exceptionally  beautiful.  He  was 
also  a  superb  athlete  and  marvellously  fearless.  His 
arrow  would  pierce  the  distant  gazelle  with  unerring 
aim,  and  he  would  face  the  lion  with  a  smile  certain  to 
transfix  its  heart  with  his  mighty  javelin.  In  ability 
he  towered  far  above  his  contemporaries ;  his  talents 
were  of  the  most  versatile  description ;  he  had  an 
instinctive  genius  for  the  arts  alike  of  war  and  peace. 
Above  all,  he  had  a  truly  wonderful  gift  of  winning 
his  way  to  the  confidence  of  the  greatest  rulers  of  the 
world,  and  owed  much  to  the  favour  and  friendship  of 
the  mighty  Emperor  of  Dumi.  Step  by  step  he  climbed 
the  height  of  power,  aided  by  marriage  with  a  lovely 
princess  of  an  old  but  banished  royal  line,  for  whose 
sake  he  had  repudiated  his  former  wife,  and  had  sent 
away  his  eldest  son,  Ambivius,  to  be  educated  for  a 
private  career. 

Doress  had  risen  to  the  throne  of  Elkuds.  Never 
did  earthly  sovereign  reign  more  royally.  His  wealth 
seemed  inexhaustible  and  he  lavished  it  both  on  his 
own  subjects  and  on  adjacent  lands.  He  decorated 
city  after  city  with  palaces  of  white  marble  and 


172  ALLEGORIES 

*  imperial  mantles  of  proud  towers.'  In  every  city  he 
visited,  in  every  land  through  which  he  travelled,  it 
might  have  seemed  as  if  all  the  inhabitants  were  sup- 
pliants for  his  lavish  bounty,  and  poured  their  choicest 
honours  at  his  feet. 

The  foreign  kings  or  potentates  who  were  his 
frequent  guests  went  away  amazed  and  envious  at  a 
splendour  which  they  could  not  emulate.  It  was 
specially  displayed  in  the  palace  which  was  his  favourite 
residence.  This  royal  residence  was  ceiled  with  cedar 
and  painted  with  vermilion.  The  figures,  carved  with 
choicest  skill  upon  its  architraves,  shone  with  gilt  and 
blue  and  crimson.  The  pillars  were  of  rare  marble— 
purple  and  green  and  gold  and  rose-colour.  The 
floors  were  of  the  same  lustrous  materials,  and  looked 
like  mosaics  of  jewels.  The  banquet  rooms  were  hung 
with  silken  tapestries  and  hangings  of  sea-purple,  and 
were  lighted  either  with  huge  candelabra  of  gold,  of 
which  the  like  was  never  seen,  or  with  statues  of  youths 
in  gold  and  silver,  holding  brilliant  lamps  in  their  hands. 
The  tables  groaned  under  their  load  of  plate,  wrought 
in  artistic  forms  and  chased  with  exquisite  designs, 
and  these  were  upheaped  with  all  kinds  of  delicious 

dainties — 

Candied  apple,  quince,  and  plum,  and  gourd, 
And  lucent  syrups  tinct  with  cinnamon. 

As  the  guests  lay  on  their  sumptuous  couches,  they 
were  waited  on  by  pages,  with  their  long  fair  hair 
crowned  with  flowers,  who  had  been  bought  for  their 
beauty  in  far-off  lands.  All  round  the  halls  stood 


THE    FORTUNES   OF    A    ROYAL   HOUSE  173 

soldiers,  splendidly  accoutred  and  tall  of  stature,  who 
formed  the  foreign  body-guard  of  this  great  king. 

Ashmod  was  well  aware  that  all  this  gorgeous 
materialism,  so  far  from  hindering,  tended  to  further 
his  designs  of  entangling  the  souls  of  King  Elyon's 
children  in  earthliness  and  sensualism,  and  making  them 
more  liable  to  become  his  own  slaves.  Yet  he  looked 
with  so  rancorous  an  envy  on  anything  in  any  Porphy- 
rian  which  bore  even  the  external  semblance  of  aught 
but  misery,  that  since  King  Doress  the  Magnificent 
still  manifested  some  laudable  qualities,  the  demon  was 
spitefully  and  passionately  desirous  to  overwhelm  him 
under  floods  of  misfortune  and  drive  him  for  ever,  if 
it  were  possible,  from  King  Elyon's  love. 

He  summoned  his  henchman,  Yetser  Hara,  and, 
pointing  to  the  palace  of  King  Doress,  said,  '  I  loathe 
it  all.  Blight  it  for  me  !  ' 

'  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  difficult,'  said  Hara. 
<  Several  of  the  dwellers  in  that  abode  are  ripe  for  my 
machinations  in  various  ways,  and  I  have  fiends  already 
in  training  to  entice  them.' 

Before  we  hear  of  Hara's  plans,  we  must  first 
mention  the  members  of  the  family  of  Doress  who 
were  denizens  of  his  palace.  There  was  his  favourite 
sister,  the  Lady  Pacifica ;  there  was  Queen  Leila,  his 
bride,  who  was  the  loveliest  woman  in  all  the  world  ; 
and  he  had  two  sons  living  with  him — very  princely 
boys — Prince  Hilaris  and  Prince  Innocens. 

'What  will  you  give  me,'  said  Hara,  'if  I  make 
that  palace,  which  is  the  most  splendid  on  earth,  a 


174  ALLEGORIES 

chaos  of  hatreds,  a  torture  chamber,  shambles  red  with 
massacres,  a  place  resounding  with  the  dismal  shrieks 
of  all  the  furies  ?  What  reward  will  you  promise  me 
if  I  deal  with  those  lovely  and  royal  creatures,  and 
make  them  so  miserable  that  they  shall  almost  wish 
themselves  to  be  with  you  in  Pandemonium  ? ' 

'  Do  that,'  said  Ashmod,  '  and  I  will  promise  you  a 
throne  not  even  second  to  that  of  Prince  Zebul.' 

'  Agreed  !  '  said  Hara.     '  My  success  is  certain.' 

'  How  ? ' 

'  To  King  Doress  I  shall  assign  the  grim  and  rest- 
less demon  of  Suspicion ;  to  Queen  Leila  the  demon  of 
Haughty  Disdain ;  to  Pacifica  the  green-eyed  demon 
of  Jealousy,  who  shall  pass  from  one  to  the  other. 
For  the  ruin  of  Hilaris  the  imp  of  Heedless  Folly  will 
for  the  present  suffice  ;  and  to  the  eldest  son,  Ambivius, 
whom  I  shall  manage  to  get  summoned  home,  I  will 
assign  the  fiery  and  insatiable  fiend  of  Unscrupulous 
Ambition.' 

'You  have  not  mentioned  Prince  Innocens,'  said 
Ashmod, 

'  I  know  it ;  I  can  at  present  do  nothing  with  him.' 

Ashmod  warmly  commended  Hara  for  his  plan. 
We  shall  see  how  it  worked. 


The  demons,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  have  too 
much  experience  to  precipitate  their  operations.  They 
approach  their  victims  with  the  noiseless  sinuous  glide 
of  a  serpent — the  serpent  which  looks  like  a  dead  and 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  175 

slumbrous  thing,  and  yet  can  '  outclimb  the  monkey, 
outswim  the  fish,  outleap  the  zebra,  outwrestle  the 
athlete,  crush  the  tiger ;  and,  before  we  have  time  to 
think,  we  are  fascinated  and  bewildered ;  its  coils  rapidly 
gather  round  us,  and  its  stroke  flashes  poison  through 
our  blood.'  It  is  only  at  later  phases  in  the  soul's 
history  that  the  fiends  know  the  best  time  to  crash  out 
of  the  dark  forest  of  temptation  with  the  glare  and  roar 
of  the  wild  beast  bounding  on  his  prey. 

For  a  time  the  palace  of  King  Doress  the 
Magnificent  might  have  been  (as  indeed  it  was)  the 
envy  of  the  world.  The  populace  admired  its  splendid 
inhabitants,  those  imperially  moulded  men  and  lovely 
women,  and  fair  youths,  who  rode  forth  from  its  porch 
to  the  chase  or  to  the  games,  surrounded  by  the  utmost 
pomp  and  prodigality  of  royal  state.  But,  unseen,  the 
evil  spirits  were  moving  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  sowing 
the  invisible  germs  which  should  burst  forth  in  the 
future  whirlwind. 

Up  to  this  time  King  Doress  had  lived  a  life  in 
which  many  munificent  and  kindly  deeds  had  not  as 
yet  been  stained  with  any  unpardonable  crime ;  but, 
unobserved  by  any,  the  fiends  of  Pride  and  Suspicion 
and  Jealousy  were  daily  working  in  the  dark  corners  of 
his  palace. 

There  would  be  much  to  tell  of  his  fortunes,  but  we 
have  mainly  to  do  with  the  story  of  his  sons.  We  shall 
therefore  pass  over  some  crimes  into  which  the  King 
was  hurried  by  his  proud,  passionate,  suspicious  nature, 
above  all  the  crowning  crime  which  had  led  him  to 


176  ALLEGORIES 

suffer  his  whole  soul  to  be  poisoned  against  his  wife 
Queen  Leila,  until  at  last,  under  a  false  accusation,  he 
had  ordered  her  execution — an  atrocity  which  for  years 
afterwards  poisoned  his  soul  with  remorse  as  bitter  as 
it  was  unavailing. 

II 

THE    THREE    PRINCES 

If  thou  wouldst    see  the  star    of  thy   destiny,  look  for  it  in  thine 
own  heart. 

FOR  some  years  after  this  crime  Doress  was  suffered  to 
pursue  his  career  of  outward  success  and  splendour 
undisturbed.  He  was  victorious  in  war,  munificent  in 
peace,  and  the  palace  continued  for  a  time  in  com- 
parative calm.  But  it  was  only  because  the  unseen 
demons  felt  secure  of  him,  only  because  they  knew 
that  his  heart  was  secretly  turned  to  idols,  that  for  a 
little  while  they  let  him  alone. 

For  a  little  while  only.  Years  sped  on,  and  the  two 
youngprinces,  sons  of  the  King  by  Leila — Prince  Hilaris 
and  Prince  Innocens — were  growing  up.  Hara  and  his 
confederates  felt  that  it  was  time  for  them  to  renew 
active  measures. 

Prince  Hilaris  was  a  youth  of  eighteen.  He  was 
not  ill-intentioned,  but  he  was  somewhat  weak.  His 
fault  and  peril  was  that  he  was  too  much  given  to 
frivolity,  and  had  by  no  means  realised  that  life  is  a 
very  serious  thing.  His  father  with  amazing  mag- 
nificence had  married  him  to  the  daughter  of  a 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     177 

neighbouring  King ;  unhappily  she  was,  like  her  hus- 
band, of  a  careless  temperament. 

Prince  Innocens,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to  have 
inherited  all  the  best  qualities  of  King  Doress  and 
Queen  Leila,  and  none  of  the  evil  ones.  He  was  now 
a  boy  of  fifteen.  His  bright  face,  his  golden  hair  were 
pleasant  to  look  upon,  and  his  singular  blamelessness, 
joined  to  a  jaost  unselfish  and  affectionate  nature,  made 
him  the  beloved  of  all.  Even  the  stern  moods  of  his 
father,  his  fits  of  suspicious  jealousy,  his  bursts  of  un- 
controllable anger,  were  calmed  to  gentleness  when  this 
his  favourite  boy  sat  at  the  foot  of  his  royal  chair,  and 
the  King's  hand  was  resting  lovingly  upon  his  head,  as 
it  had  so  often  done  when  he  was  still  a  child. 

All  might  now  have  been  well,  or  comparatively 
well,  as  far  as  outward  events  were  concerned,  in  the 
palace  of  King  Doress,  if  those  who  were  its  denizens 
had  but  taken  to  themselves  the  shield  of  faith  and  the 
panoply  of  watchfulness,  and  refused  to  leave  any  place 
in  their  souls  for  the  malignant  attacks  of  the  evil 
demons.  But  when  the  subterranean  depths  of  human 
hearts  are  surcharged  with  volcanic  fires,  the  evil  ones 
below  sit  '  nursing  the  impatient  earthquake.' 

The  King  often  lent  his  ear  to  his  sister,  the  Lady 
Pacifica,  who  was  the  dme  damnee  of  his  house.  It 
Was  impossible  for  her  cordially  to  like  the  two  young 
Princes.  They  were  her  nephews— but  were  they  not 
sons  of  Queen  Leila,  who  was  now  dead,  but  whom  she 
had  hated  for  her  pride?  Besides  this,  Pacifica  had 
sons  of  her  own,  and  was  specially  devoted  to  Philip 

N 


178  ALLEGORIES 

her  eldest  born.  If  these  young  rivals  could  be  swept 
out  of  her  path,  who  could  tell  but  what  she  might  yet 
live  to  see  Philip  nominated  heir  to  King  Doress  and 
his  splendid  crown  ? 


Ill 

Gefahrlich  1st  mit  Geistern  sich  gesellen. — GOETHE. 

HEBE  then  were  promising  materials  on  which  Hara 
could  work.  He  summoned  the  evil  spirits  who  were 
under  his  command  and  consulted  with  them. 

'  There  is  yet  more  to  be  done,'  he  said,  '  in  the 
palace  of  Doress.  Who  will  take  in  hand  the  Lady 
Pacifica  ? ' 

'  She  does  not  want  much  taking  in  hand,'  said 
Echthos,  the  spirit  of  Hatred.  '  She  has  long  ago  given 
her  secret  signature  to  my  bond.' 

'  And  I  will  help  Echthos  in  any  plan  he  has,'  said 
Eris,  the  spirit  of  Ambition  and  Discord. 

'  Very  well,'  said  Hara,  '  and  several  of  you  already 
have  your  hold  on  Doress,  so  that  he  will  not  give  us 
any  trouble.  But  now  what  is  to.be  done  with  Prince 
Hilaris  ? ' 

1 1  have  made  a  little  way  with  him/  said  Elaphros, 
the  young  and  comparatively  harmless  imp  of  Levity. 
'  I  can  induce  him  to  blurt  out  all  sorts  of  dangerous 
speeches  without  thinking,  and  his  young  wife  is  so 
like  him  that  the  two  together  may  cause  endless 
mischief.' 


DORESS    AND    INNOCENS 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A  ROYAL  HOUSE  181 

'  And  in  that  matter  I  can  be  of  the  greatest  use/ 
said  another  young  imp,  whose  name  was  Psithuros, 
the  spirit  of  Whisperings. 

'  Good,  you  pretty  little  imps  of  darkness,'  said 
Hara. 

'When  they  have  done  their  little  best,'  said 
Iggereth,  the  demon  of  Perverted  Aims,  with  some 
contempt,  '  I  shall  be  ready  for  more  serious  business.' 

'  But  now,  what  about  Prince  Innocens  ? '  asked 
Hara. 

Devils,  and  demons,  and  imps  alike  were  silent.     . 

*  What  ?  '  said  Hara.  '  Are  all  of  you  so  completely 
defeated  by  one  young  Porphyrian  boy  ?  I  hate  Prince 
Innocens.  I  would  rather  drag  him  down  than  any 
one.' 

'  We  can  do  no  good  with  him,'  said  one  after  another 
sullenly. 

'  Hatob  is  always  with  that  boy/  said  Lilith.  '  They 
walk  hand  in  hand.  If  one  of  us  does  but  show  himself 
he  instantly  calls  out  to  Hatob  in  alarm,  and  says  that 
he  has  been  frightened  by  an  ugly  face.  He  says  so 
even  if  I  appear  to  him ;  and  you  all  know  that  I  am 
beautiful.  Even  such  mere  children  as  Elaphros  and 
Psithuros  alarm  him.' 

'  Yes/  said  Psithuros,  'for  one  day  when  I  had  got 
among  his  friends  he  suddenly  ceased  talking  and  went 
out.  And  I  once  heard  him  tell  Hatob  that  it  made 
him  afraid  to  think  that  evil  spirits  were  on  the  watch 
to  lead  him  astray  ;  and  Hatob  answered  that  neither 
he  nor  any  one  need  be  in  the  smallest  degree  alarmed, 


182  ALLEGOKIES 

since  no  evil  spirit  would  touch,  much  less  hurt,  any  one, 
however  young,  who  would  refuse  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  them.' 

'  Cease,  you  silly  chatterer  ! '  said  Eris.  '  We  all 
know  that,  and  don't  want  to  listen  to  Hatch's  sermons 
here.' 

'  How  do  you  account  for  it  ?  '  asked  Hara.  *  It  is 
most  exceptional  when  any  young  Porphyrian  has  so 
little  part  in  me.' 

'  I  will  tell  you,'  murmured  Echthos.  '  King  Doress 
has  a  very  distant  and  mysterious  palace  in  the  hills 
where  saints  and  prophets  are  buried.  In  the  garden 
of  this  palace  grows  a  herb,  rare  as  the  mandrake.  It 
is  called  GEnaris.  Its  root  is  of  flame-colour,  and 
on  the  darkest  night  it  is  beautifully  luminous.  But  it 
requires  a  trained  and  delicate  eye  to  see  this  pure  flame. 
To  most  people  it  looks  a  common  plant  enough,  and 
numbers  who  have  suspected  that  it  has  some  magic 
power  have  pulled  it,  and  hacked  at  it,  and  bragged 
about  it,  and  turned  it  to  the  silliest  material  uses. 
But  I  happen  to  know  that  when  Innocens  was  four- 
teen, Hatob  had  long  and  earnest  talks  with  him,  and 
the  Prince  grew  even  more  serious  than  he  was  before, 
and  then  Hatob  showed  him  this  plant,  and  how  to  use 
it ;  and  it  has  been  a  potent  amulet  against  all  our 
snares.' 

1  Yes,'  said  Naama,  '  and  Elyon  has  given  him  the 
not  uncommon  sapphire  ring  which  he  gave  to  Aner. 
On  the  fingers  of  most  who  wear  it,  it  soon  grows  white, 
or  at  the  best  pale  enough  ;  but  on  his  finger  it  is  still 
of  the  deepest  blue.' 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A    ROYAL   HOUSE  183 

'  I  know,'  said  Lilith  ;  '  he  is  one  of  Ely  on' s  special 
favourites.' 

'  For  the  present,'  said  many  voices, '  we  must  leave 
Sir  Innocens  alone.  Some  day  perhaps  one  or  other  of 
us — you,  Naama,  have  the  best  chance — may  find  him 
off  his  guard,  and  then  ! ' 

All  that  the  demons  said  was  true ;  for  the  boy's 
name  was  a  reflex  of  his  character,  and  he  had  given 
his  heart  to  Elyon.  The  use  which  he  made  of  the 
herb  (Enaris  was  to  place  his  young  life  of  temperance, 
soberness,  and  chastity  under  the  guardianship  of 
heavenly  powers. 

'  Ah  !  but,'  said  Hara,  '  I  have  another  card  to  play 
in  the  palace  of  Doress.' 

'  What  is  that '?  '  they  asked  inquisitively. 

'  There  is  tjie  eldest  son  of  Doress — Ambivius.' 

His  name  was  received  by  the  demons  with  peals  of 
malignant  laughter. 

'  Ambivius — oh,  he  is  mine  already,  heart  and  soul,' 
said  Lilith. 

'  And  ours  too,'  chimed  in  Naama  and  Iggereth  in 
one  breath. 

'  And  mine  ' — '  And  mine  ' — '  And  mine/  said  the 
demons  of  Treachery  and  Hatred,  and  Baseness  and 
Ambition. 

'  But  he  lives  far  away,'  said  Phobos,  the  spirit  of 
Timidity.  '  He  is  not  in  the  palace,  or  he  would  be 
a  most  serviceable  aid  to  us  ;  much  more  than  a  counter- 
poise to  that  hateful  boy,  Prince  Innocens.' 

'  Leave  that  to  me  !  I  will  manage  that/  said  Hara  ; 
and  the  conclave  of  demons  broke  up. 


184  ALLEGORIES 

IV 

Whispering  tongues  will  poison  truth — COLERIDGE. 

'THE  Lady  Pacifica,'  said  the  page  in  waiting;  and 
the  sister  of  Doress  sailed  into  the  audience  chamber  of 
the  King  in  her  jewelled  apparel. 

'  You  don't  often  pay  me  a  visit,  Pacifica,'  said 
Doress  ;  *  and  you  are  like  a  bird  of  evil  omen — when- 
ever you  come  to  me  in  state  I  always  feel  sure  that 
there  is  something  wrong.' 

'  I  never  say  anything  which  I  do  not  think 
necessary  for  your  Majesty's  happiness,  brother,'  she 
answered.  '  A  great  king  is  always  surrounded  by 
enemies,  and  sometimes  they  are  of  his  own  house- 
hold.' 

'  What  is  the  matter  now  ?  '  asked  Doress,  drawing 
his  brows  into  the  terrible  frown  which  portended  a 
burst  of  wrath. 

'  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  doings  either  of 
your  son  Hilaris  or  his  wife,'  said  Pacifica. 

'  He  never  had  too  much  brains,'  said  Doress  ;  '  and 
as  for  her,  she  is  insignificant ' 

'  If  they  were  not  very  silly,'  said  Pacifica,  '  she 
would  hardly  venture  publicly  to  repeat  the  gossip  of 
the  backstairs,  and  laugh  at  you  for  dyeing  your  hair, 
and  using  cosmetics  as  she  says  you  do.' 

King  Doress  felt  that  this  was  beneath  his  contempt. 
'  Never  mind  her  chatter,'  he  said ;  '  she  is  a  fool.' 

'  Yes,  but  even  fools  can  scatter  firebrands.' 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     185 

'  What  has  Hilaris  been  doing  ?  I  can  soon  reduce 
him  to  order.' 

'  Is  he  so  certain  of  the  crown  when  you  die,  Doress,' 
asked  Pacifica,  '  that  you  are  not  even  to  have  a  voice 
in  the  matter  ?  ' 

'  I  can  leave  the  crown  to  whom  I  choose,  and,  if  I 
choose,  can  divide  my  kingdom  into  parts.' 

'  Exactly  so  ;  then  I  do  not  think  that  the  phrase, 
"  When  I  am  king,"  should  be  so  habitually  on  his  lips.' 

'  Certainly  not.' 

'  He  builds,'  said  Pacifica,  '  on  his  being  the  son  of 
Leila.  He  poses  as  the  scion  of  what  he  calls  the 
genuine  royal  line.' 

'  Has  he  the  presumption,  the  puppy  ?  '  said  Doress 
angrily. 

'  Indeed  he  has.  Your  own  son  is  being  set  up  as 
your  rival.  The  people,  devoted  to  the  ancient  line  of 
princes,  dare  not  speak  openly,  but  are  discussing  in 
treasonable  enigmas  whether  a  pure  stream  of  water 
may  not  come  out  of  an  entirely  new  channel ;  and 
whether  the  son  of  a  daughter  has  not  as  much  right 
as  the  son  of  a  son — and  so  on.' 

'  The  old  royal  line  were  mere  nobodies  compared 
with  me,'  said  the  King. 

'And  that  is  the  very  reason,'  answered  Pacifica, 
'  why  Hilaris  should  be  more  proud  of  you,  and  not 
harp  so  incessantly  upon  them  ' 

Doress  grew  more  and  more  angry.  '  I  will  have 
him  thrown  into  prison,'  he  said. 

'  No  ! '  said  Pacifica,  '  do  nothing  rash.    Let  us  have 


186  ALLEGORIES 

no  more  scandals  in  the  family ;  we  have  had  enough 
already.' 

'  Silence  !  '  thundered  Doress,  who  could  not  endure 
the  slightest  reference  to  the  crimes  of  his  past  years. 

'  Pardon,  your  Majesty  ! '  said  Pacifica.  *  I  only 
spoke  rashly  out  of  my  loyalty ;  but — may  I  advise  ? ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  Then  summon  home  your  eldest  son,  Ambivius. 
You  have  not  seen  him  for  years.  After  all  he  is  your 
eldest  son,  and  he  might  prove  himself  a  salutary 
counterpoise  to  the  insolence  of  Hilaris  towards  the 
members  of  your  own  family.' 

'  Insolence  ?  ' 

'  Well,  I  do  not  know  whether  you  call  this  insolence 
or  not,  but  when  he  and  his  wife  are  surrounded  by 
their  parasites,  who  are  far  more  numerous  than  yours, 
how  do  you  think  they  speak  of  me,  and  my  son  Philip, 
and  your  other  relatives  ?  The  young  lady  always 
stigmatises  us  as  "that  plebeian  lot." 

'  If  you  are  plebeian,  I  am  plebeian,'  said  Doress 
with  a  roar  like  that  of  a  lion. 

'  Oh,  pray  do  not  get  angry,  brother  !  Hilaris  only 
says  that  when  you  die — a  common  phrase  of  his ' — 
(Pacifica  lingered  over  the  phrase) — *  he  means  to  strip  me 
and  my  daughters  of  our  fine  robes,  and  make  us  card 
wool.  Our  male  relatives  are  to  be  turned  into  slaves 
or  common  soldiers.  Perhaps  my  good  son  Philip 
may  rise  to  be  a  centurion,  if  he  is  very  submissive.' 

King  Doress  was  pacing  the  room  in  his  fury,  and 
Pacifica  saw  that  it  was  time  to  go. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     187 

'  Check  your  wrath,  brother,'  she  said  ;  '  only  send 
for  Ambivius,  and  give  him  the  title  of  Prince.  That 
will  be  quite  sufficient  at  present :  unless  you  would 
like  to  confer  the  same  honour  on  your  nephew  Philip.' 

Soon  after  Pacifica  had  left  him,  the  King  received 
his  usual  daily  visit  from  Prince  Hilaris.  He  received 
the  youth  roughly  and  contemptuously.  Hilaris,  who 
really  loved  his  father,  was  deeply  hurt. 

'  Have  I  done  anything  wrong,  sir  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  Wrong  ?  Yes  !  '  said  the  King.  '  How  dare  you 
presume  to  set  yourself  up  among  the  people  as  a  rival 
to  me  ?  How  dare  you  insult  my  family,  which  is  also 
your  family  ?  I  will  tame  your  insolence,  boy.  Out  of 
my  sight !  And  let  your  wife  curb  her  silly  tongue  also, 
or  it  will  be  the  worse  for  her.' 

Hilaris  stood  amazed.  Who  could  have  been  telling 
lies  of  him  ?  Who  could  have  been  repeating  his  light 
and  half -playful  remarks  ?  He  would  have  spoken  ; 
but  his  father  cut  him  short  so  imperiously  with  the 
order,  '  Get  out  of  my  sight ! '  that  he  hurriedly  left  the 
room. 

The  little  imp  Psithuros,  who  stood  on  a  perch  in 
the  disguise  of  the  King's  favourite  parrot,  looked  on 
at  the  scene  with  delight,  and  retailed  it  afterwards  to 
Hara  with  shouts  of  laughter. 

But  the  imp  fled  away  when  Prince  Innocens 
entered. 

The  boy  usually  received  a  most  cordial  welcome 
from  his  father  ;  but  not  so  to-day.  Doress  in  his  fierce 
mood  remembered  that  Innocens  also  had  in  his  veins 


188  ALLEGORIES 

the  blood  of  the  old  royal  line,  and  might  hereafter  be 
set  up  as  a  sort  of  rival  to  himself.  He  pushed  his 
son  away,  and  did  not  return  his  greeting. 

'  Father  !  '  said  Innocens  astonished,  *  what  is  the 
matter  ? ' 

'  Matter  enough !  As  if  I  were  not  sufficiently 
burdened  by  affairs  of  state  without  being  plagued  by 
ungrateful  sons.' 

'  Ungrateful,  father  ?  What  can  I  possibly  have 
done  to  vex  you  so  much  ? ' 

1  Oh,  I  suppose  you  are  in  league  with  Hilaris 
against  me.  You  think  that  I  am  getting  old,  and  that 
you  will  have  fine  times  when  he  is  king.' 

'Father,'  said  the  boy,  boldly  seizing  his  reluctant 
hand,  and  looking  up  into  his  face  with  his  fearless 
blue  eyes,  '  you  have  always  been  kind  and  indulgent 
to  me.  I  love  Hilaris,  but  what  could  he  possibly  do 
for  me  more  than  you  have  done — or  as  much?  In 
league  with  Hilaris  against  you  ?  Oh,  father  ' — for  by 
this  time  the  boy's  guileless  pleading  had  charmed  the 
frowning  face  of  Doress  into  a  smile — '  how  can  you 
talk  such  nonsense  ?  ' 

'  There  ! '  said  Doress,  laughing  in  spite  of  himself, 
'  a  mere  hop  o'  my  thumb  like  you  is  impudent  enough 
to  tell  the  King  his  father  that  he  talks  nonsense  !  ' 

'  And  so  you  do,'  said  Innocens,  kissing  him ;  and 
Doress  could  not  forbear  from  returning  the  kiss,  and 
clasping  his  son  to  his  heart.  But  the  moody  fit 
speedily  came  back  upon  him  like  a  cloud  over  the 
sunshine. 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  189 

'  Then  you  have  not  joined  with  Hilaris  in  insult- 
ing the  Lady  Pacifica,  or  talking  of  my  family  as 
plebeian  ?  ' 

'  Father,  how  can  you  ? '  said  Innocens  reproach- 
fully. '  Why  does  a  great  king  like  you  listen  to  such 
idle  tittle-tattle  ? ' 

'  Dearest  son,'  said  Doress,  '  you  can  say  what  you 
like  to  me,  for  I  believe  that  you  are  good  and  true,  and 
that  you  really  love  me  for  my  own  sake  as  few  do. 
But  Hilaris  is  not  like  you.' 

'  Ah,  do  not  separate  us  in  that  way,  father !  We 
are  brothers.  We  love  each  other,  and  we  both  love 
you: 

'  Yet  tell  me,  Innocens,  have  you  never  heard  him 
talk  in  that  style  ?  ' 

1  Never,  father,'  said  Innocens,  looking  up  frankly 
into  his  eyes.  '  But  even  if  I  had,  I  should  have  put  it 
down  as  nonsense,  quite  harmless.  Hilaris  talks  and 
talks — especially  when  his  heart  is  merry — and  he  means 
nothing.  You  know,  father,  that  other  people  as  well 
as  Hilaris  can  talk  nonsense  sometimes,'  he  said  with  a 
demure  smile. 

Innocens  in  his  transparent  simplicity  had  charmed 
away  the  fierceness  of  the  King's  wrath.  '  You  are  a 
dear  little  fellow,'  said  King  Doress,  'in  spite  of  your 
impudence.' 

'  Thank  you,  father,'  he  said, '  for  saying  that.  And 
you  are  a  dear  old  king  for  letting  your  foolish  boy  tell 
you  that  you  talk  nonsense.  Kiss  me  again,  and  give 
me  your  blessing.' 


190  ALLEGORIES 

Doress  did  so,  and,  as  the  boy  reached  the  door,  he 
turned  round,  fixed  his  earnest  gaze  upon  him,  and 
said : 

'  But,  dear  father,  do  not  listen  to  gossips  who  would 
poison  your  kind  heart  against  your  sons.' 


Eheu,  quid  volui  misero  mihi  ?  floribus  austrum 
Perditus  et  liquidis  immisi  fontibus  apros. 

VIBG.  Eel  ii.  58. 

FOE  a  time  the  sweet  influence  of  Innocens  prevailed. 
The  King  dismissed  his  gloomy  and  suspicious 
jealousies;  but  they  had  been  indulged  too  often  to 
loosen  their  hold  finally.  They  returned  upon  him 
like  a  flood.  He  did  not  take  Pacifica's  hint,  and 
deeply  vexed  both  her  and  her  son  by  not  putting 
Philip  in  the  line  of  succession  and  allowing  him  the 
title  of  prince ;  but  he  did  despatch  an  order  to 
Ambivius  to  come  to  the  palace.  The  day  before  his 
arrival,  he  said  to  Hilaris  and  Innocens  : 

'Boys,  your  elder  brother,  Ambivius,  whom  you 
have  not  seen,  will  arrive  to-morrow.  Eeceive  him,  I 
bid  you,  in  all  respects  as  your  equal,  and  as  your  elder 
brother;  and  remember  that  I  give  to  him  also  the 
title  of  prince,  and  regard  him  as  the  possible  heir,  or 
coheir,  of  my  kingdom.' 

Next  day  when  the  young  princes  paid  him  their 
morning  visit,  he  tried  to  ascertain  their  feelings. 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  19J 

*  I  will  obey  your  commands,  sir,'  said  Hilaris, 
whom  his  wife  had,  however,  made  to  feel  that  the 
summons  to  Ambivius  materially  altered  her  position 
and  prospects. 

'  And  you,  my  Innocens  ?  ' 

'  I  shall  be  as  formidable  to  him  as  I  am  to  you, 
father,'  he  said,  laughing,  '  and  if  he  ever  talks  nonsense 
I  shall  tell  him  so.' 


VI 

0  purblind  race  of  miserable  men  ! 
How  many  among  us  at  this  very  hour 
Do  forge  a  lifelong  trouble  for  ourselves 
By  taking  true  for  false,  and  false  for  true  ! 
Here  in  this  mirky  twilight  of  the  world 
Groping  : — how  many  ! — TENNYSON. 

AMBIVIUS — or,  as  we  must  now  call  him,  the  Prince 
Ambivius — was  introduced  into  the  court  with  great 
formality.  His  father  sent  an  escort  to  meet  him,  and 
all  the  drums  were  beating,  and  the  trumpets  sounded  a 
triumphant  fanfare  as  he  entered  the  palace  court  in  one 
of  the  royal  chariots  surrounded  by  a  glittering  escort  of 
the  King's  bodyguard.  He  was  undeniably  handsome  ; 
and  when  his  face  was  wreathed  with  winning  smiles, 
he  made,  at  first  sight,  a  favourable  impression.  Yet 
several  of  Ashmod's  demons,  who  were  looking  on  in 
various  disguises — some  perched  like  ravens  on  the 
trees,  others  flitting  hither  and  thither  like  bright- 
coloured  birds — laughed  and  screeched  to  each  other  in 


192  ALLEGOEIES 

the  notes  of  their  own  secret  language,  and  said,  '  We 
shall  have  little  to  do  now  that  Ambivius  is  here.' 

His  prime  and  immediate  object  was  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  the  King,  from  whose  presence  he  had 
been  secluded  for  many  years.  When  he  entered  the 
audience  chamber  of  Doress  he  fell  gracefully  and  most 
humbly  on  his  knee,  and  bent  his  head.  He  spoke  in 
low  respectful  words,  which  seemed  to  be  trembling 
with  affection.  Afterwards,  day  by  day,  at  banquets, 
and  whenever  he  was  in  his  father's  presence,  he 
watched  his  least  movements  and  seemed  eager  to 
anticipate  his  slightest  wish.  He  laid  himself  out 
sedulously  to  amuse  the  King's  family  and  guests  by  his 
brightness,  geniality,  and  wit.  This  he  could  well  do, 
for  he  had  inherited  much  of  the  King's  ability,  and 
his  intellectual  gifts  and  versatility  were  far  superior  to 
those  of  his  two  brothers.  He  was  such  a  gain  to  the 
society  of  the  court  that  he  was  never  omitted  from  the 
King's  public  hospitalities,  and  was  constantly  sum- 
moned to  his  private  society.  Later  on,  as  he  saw 
himself  gaining  in  the  affections  of  Doress,  he  began 
to  seek  his  society  uninvited,  which  few  of  the  royal 
family  ventured  to  do,  and  he  used  his  best  exertions 
to  dissipate  the  monarch's  frequent  ennui.  After  that, 
he  would  even  come  to  his  bedchamber  to  inquire  after 
his  safety  with  the  utmost  solicitude,  and  he  asked  if 
he  might  not  act  as  Page  of  the  Chamber,  so  as  to  be 
the  faithful  guardian  of  the  King's  slumbers.  At  last 
—which  was  what  he  had  been  aiming  at — Doress 
gave  him  his  unbounded  confidence. 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  193 

His  simultaneous  efforts  were  devoted  to  win  all  the 
other  members  of  the  royal  family,  and  to  become  their 
chief  favourite.  For  his  ultimate  aim  was  in  due 
time  to  oust  and  get  rid  of  his  two  brothers,  and  make 
himself  the  heir  of  Doress  as  sole  king  of  the  whole 
realm  of  Elkuds. 

He  first  laid  siege  to  Prince  Hilaris  ;  sought  his 
society ;  flattered  him ;  treated  him  with  a  charming 
mixture  of  deference  and  familiarity,  always  affecting 
to  regard  him  as  his  unquestioned  superior ;  asked  his 
advice,  tried  in  every  way  to  bring  him  out,  to  worm 
his  way  into  his  secrets,  and  unobserved  to  mould 
his  thoughts  and  elicit  his  most  perilous  confidences, 
though  nothing  seemed  to  be  farther  from  his  intentions. 
Ambivius  was  a  consummate  master  in  the  arts  of 
treacherous  hypocrisy,  while  he  tried  to  wear  the  aspect 
of  simplicity  itself.  The  unhappy  Hilaris  came  to 
look  upon  this  his  deadliest  enemy  as  his  truest  friend, 
and  both  he  and  his  young  wife  regarded  him  as  the 
one  person  to  whom  they  might  say  everything  with 
the  certainty  that  he  would  neither  betray  nor  misuse 
their  frankness. 

At  the  same  time  he  set  himself  to  win  the  Lady 
Pacifica.  Did  he  not  belong  to  her  family,  the  genuine 
family  of  King  Doress  ?  There  was  no  fear  that  he 
would  give  himself  any  supercilious  airs,  or  profess  to 
look  down  on  the  sons  and  daughters  of  his  aunt  as 
though  they  came  of  a  race  inferior  to  his  own.  He 
subtly  made  Pacifica  feel  that  her  interests,  and  those 
of  her  children,  were  closely  identified  with  his.  He 

o 


194  ALLEGORIES 

paid  special  court  to  her  eldest  son  Philip.  Without 
saying  anything  which  could  be  taken  hold  of,  he  some- 
how created  in  Philip's  mind  the  conviction  that,  if  he 
and  his  wife  Bhoda  would  ally  themselves  in  a  close 
secret  alliance  with  him,  they  might  one  day  share 
his  future  kingdom.  Ambivius  seemed  to  have  some 
mysterious  power  of  impressing  his  thoughts  upon 
others  without  clothing  them  in  express  words.  He 
was  a  master  of  hints,  and  turns  of  expression  which 
seemed  to  say  one  thing,  and  yet  conveyed  the  very 
opposite.  Philip  and  Rhoda,  with  the  full  approval  of 
their  mother,  became  his  unconscious  tools  and  practical 
bond-slaves. 

There  was  only  one  member  of  the  court  with  whom 
he  completely  failed.  He  would  have  made  any  sacri- 
fice to  master  the  mind  of  young  Prince  Innocens  as  he 
had  mastered  the  wills  of  the  others.  He  flashed  upon 
the  boy  all  his  chameleon  colours ;  he  assumed  the 
guise  of  beautiful  ingenuousness  ;  he  gave  the  young 
Prince  his  choicest  gifts ;  murmured  in  his  ear  his 
most  delicately  modulated  flatteries  ;  exercised  all  his 
blandishments.  His  failure  was  complete,  for  the  boy. 

was  innocent ; 

And  to  be  innocent  is  nature's  wisdom. 
The  hedge -dove  knows  the  prowlers  of  the  air, 
Feared  soon  as  seen,  and  flutters  back  to  shelter ; 
And  the  young  steed  recoils  upon  its  haunches, 
The  never-yet-seen  adder's  hiss  first  heard. 
Oh,  surer  than  Suspicion's  hundred  eyes 
Is  that  fine  sense  which  to  the  pure  in  heart, 
By  mere  oppugnancy  of  their  own  goodness, 
Reveals  the  approach  of  evil. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     195 

Innocens  was  cold  to  all  the  fascinations  of 
Ambivius.  He  put  aside  his  flatteries,  did  his  best 
to  refuse  his  gifts,  and,  as  far  as  was  consistent  with 
courtesy,  tried  to  avoid  his  society,  and  to  escape  sitting 
next  to  him,  or  listening  to  his  conversation.  Ambivius 
would  dearly  have  loved  to  plant  some  secret  germs  of 
deterioration  in  the  lad's  character.  But  he  found  him 
unassailable  in  the  triple  steel  of  guilelessness.  Was 
it  the  herb  (Enaris,  which  he  kept  in  constant  use, 
which  protected  him 

'Gainst  all  enchantments,  mildew,  blast,  or  damp, 
And  ghastly  furies'  apparition  ; 

or  was  it  that,  when  Ambivius  was  trying  to  get  hold 
of  him,  his  ring  seemed  to  wear  a  less  vivid  blue,  and 
he  became  sensible  of  the  thrill  and  flash  of  Hatch's 
unspoken  warnings  ?  Whatever  may  have  been  the 
cause,  certain  it  is  that,  long  before  Ambivius  was 
found  out  by  any  one  else,  Innocens  saw  through 
him.  He  said  nothing,  but  regarded  him  as  a  wily 
and  dangerous  conspirator,  and  almost  shuddered  at 
the  presence  which  every  one  else  seemed  to  wel- 
come. 

Doress  the  Magnificent  was  delighted  with  the 
success  of  his  plan.  Ambivius  was  clearly  the  ablest 
of  his  sons,  and  was  also  the  most  ostensibly  loving. 
He  congratulated  himself  on  his  wisdom  in  sending  for 
a  youth  of  whose  filial  devotion  he  might  be  proud,  and 
whom  he  fancied  that  he  could  implicitly  trust. 

0  caecas  homimim  mentes  !     0  pectora  caeca  1 

o  2 


196  ALLEGORIES 

Doress  asked  Pacifica  and  her  son  Philip  their 
opinion  of  Ambivius.  They  were  warm  in  his  praises. 

'A  true  scion  of  our  family,'  said  Pacifica  with 
emphasis. 

Doress  asked  Prince  Hilaris  what  he  thought  of  his 
brother. 

'  I  like  him  extremely,'  said  Hilaris.  '  He  is  more 
than  a  brother,  he  is  a  true  friend.' 

O  caecas  hominum  mentes  !     0  pectora  caeca ! 

Somehow  the  King  had  divined  or  suspected  that 
his  beloved  young  Innocens  did  not  quite  feel  the 
same  warm  enthusiasm  for  this  new  member  of  the 
family. 

'My  Innocens,'  he  said  to  him,  'I  hope  you  find 
your  new  brother  as  delightful  as  Hilaris,  and  as  all 
the  others  do.' 

'Do  they  find  him  delightful?'  asked  the  boy, 
with  that  ingenuous  blush  which  always  betrayed  his 
sensibility. 

*  And  do  not  you  ?  '  asked  Doress. 

'  He  seems  to  wish  to  be  kind,'  said  Innocens.  '  He 
tries  to  make  himself  agreeable.  He  offers  me  valuable 
presents.' 

'  That  is  very  good  of  him,  seeing  that  you  are  so 
much  younger,'  said  the  King. 

Innocens  was  silent. 

'  Oh,  my  boy,'  said  Doress,  '  for  the  first  time  I  feel 
a  little  ashamed  of  you.  You  are  evidently  jealous.  I 
should  not  have  thought  it  of  you  ! ' 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  197 

'  Jealous,  father  ?  Certainly  not  that.  I  am  quite 
sure  that  he  has  not  robbed  me  of  any  of  your  love.' 

'  Robbed  you,  Innocens  ?  Why,  he  has  a  kind  word 
for  everybody ;  but  perhaps  you  are  afraid  that  he  will 
now  inherit  a  large  share  of  my  kingdom,  and  leave  all 
the  less  for  you  ?  ' 

Innocens  laughed  aloud.  '  Oh,  how  little  your 
Majesty  understands  me  ! '  he  said.  '  Come,  father ;  my 
room  is  close  by.  You  don't  visit  me  there  as  often  as 
you  ought  to  do.  I  feel  inclined  to  scold  you,  and  I 
want  to  show  you  something.' 

He  took  the  King  by  the  hand  and  led  him  to  his 
room,  and  pointed  to  one  of  the  windows.  Doress 
looked  with  curiosity  on  the  glass. 

Innocens  had  engraved,  with  the  diamond  of  a  ring 
which  his  father  had  given  him,  the  words,  which  an 
unhappy  English  princess  cut  many  hundreds  of 
years  afterwards  on  the  window  of  her  castle-chamber, 
1  0  keep  me  innocent ;  make  others  great !  ' 

'  There,  father/  he  said  ;  *  I  scratched  that  prayer 
on  the  window,  with  the  diamond  of  the  ring  you 
gave  me,  when  I  was  fourteen  years  old.  Who- 
ever may  desire  the  splendours  of  royalty,  I  do  not. 
Never  think  of  me  as  an  heir,  father;  love  me  as  a 
dear  son.' 

'I  do !  I  do ! '  said  the  King,  much  moved.  '  I  cannot 
explain  your  obvious  dislike  of  Ambivius,  and  I  am 
sorry  for  it.  You  usually  see  the  best  side  of  everybody. 
I  cannot  account  for  the  prejudice.  But  you  are  the 
dearest  of  boys,  and  your  father  will  always  love  you.' 


198  ALLEGOEIES 


VII 

He  aids 

The  friends  who  drudge  for  him,  as  the  blind  man 
Was  aided  by  his  guide,  who  lent  his  shoulder 
O'er  rough  and  smooth  until  he  reach'd  the  brink 
Of  the  far  precipice  :  then  hurled  him  downward. — Old  Play. 

AMBIVIUS  had  now  planted  his  foot  deep  into  the 
affairs  of  the  palace  of  Elkuds.  He  never  lost  sight  of 
his  ulterior  aims.  He  cared  for  no  human  being  but 
himself.  Vice,  and  crime,  and  treachery  were  words 
which  for  him  had  no  meaning.  One  thing  he  meant 
to  do,  which  was  to  make  himself  the  sole  undisputed 
monarch  of  Elkuds,  and  then  to  revel  in  every  luxury 
and  indulgence  which  wealth  and  sovereignty  and 
gratified  ambition  could  bestow  upon  him.  He  looked 
down  on  all  the  personages  around  him  as  his  inferiors. 
He  despised  King  Doress,  while  he  fooled  him  to  the 
top  of  his  bent.  He  despised  the  Lady  Pacifica ;  he 
specially  despised  Prince  Hilaris.  He  would  play  on 
them  all  as  if  they  were  his  instruments,  and  mould 
them  to  his  purposes  exactly  as  he  liked.  He  did  not 
at  all  despise  Prince  Innocens,  but  hated  and  feared 
him.  In  the  presence  of  that  blameless  boy  his  dark 
genius  felt  rebuked.  Innocens  could  not  be  got  rid  of 
by  entangling  him  in  real  plots,  or  overwhelming  him 
with  suborned  perjuries.  But  .  .  .  well,  well,  Innocens 
could  wait.  He  was  not  generally  suspicious,  and  were 
there  not  such  things  as  poisons,  which  might  be  used 


THE   FORTUNES   OF  A  ROYAL   HOUSE  199 

when  the  other  plans  of  Ambivius  had  succeeded,  as 
succeed  he  felt  sure  they  would  ? 

And  being  now  a  most  powerful  and  popular 
personage — far  more  really  influential  than  Prince 
Hilaris,  though  he  had  always  been  hitherto  regarded 
as  the  heir  to  the  crown — Ambivius  began  to  set  into 
active  motion  his  sinister  designs.  If  he  had  deceived 
the  greatest,  nothing  was  easier  to  him  than  to  enlist 
in  his  interest  a  swarm  of  inferior  persons.  He  was 
always  a  kind  and  condescending  master  to  his  slaves. 
It  suited  him  to  make  them  all  think  that  he  had  a 
personal  regard  for  them,  and  felt  a  personal  interest 
in  them.  In  this  way  he  established  a  subterranean 
ascendency  over  them,  which  made  them  his  un- 
scrupulous agents  without  seeming  to  be  •  so,  and 
enabled  him  to  secure  their  incessant  help  in  plans 
which  they  could  not  fathom.  On  all  sorts  of  pretences 
of  affection  for  Hilaris,  and  as  though  his  sole  wish  was 
to  protect  him,  he  surrounded  him — and  indeed  all 
others  except  Innocens,  of  whom  no  spy  could  ever 
find  anything  to  report — with  a  swarm  of  spies.  The 
whole  palace  buzzed  with  whisperhood,  and  clacked 
with  gossip.  Everything  which  the  King  did  or  said, 
however  secretly,  somehow  found  its  way  to  the  ears  of 
Ambivius.  As  for  poor  Prince  Hilaris,  he  could  scarcely 
smile,  or  yawn,  or  make  a  joke,  or  raise  his  hand  to  his 
head  without  Ambivius  being  informed  of  it.  Indeed, 
Ambivius  had  laid  himself  out  specially  to  win  and 
bribe  the  confidential  page  and  secretary  of  the  Prince 
so  that  he  never  wrote  a  note  of  which  the  silken  band 


200  ALLEGORIES 

was  not  unloosed,  or  the  seal  broken  and  counterfeited 
before  it  reached  its  destination.  The  close  alliance 
between  Ambivius  and  Philip,  the  elder  son  of  Pacifica, 
made  him  familiar  with  the  most  intimate  secrets  of 
her  household  also. 

The  Lady  Pacifica  was  the  chief  instrument  whom 
he  employed  to  insinuate  into  the  King's  mind  the  most 
angry  suspicions  of  Hilaris.  Garbled  quotations  of 
what  he  had  said ;  downright  inventions  of  what  he 
Jiad  not  said ;  harmless  jests  into  which  might  be  read 
a  sinister  meaning — all  found  their  way  through  the 
spies  of  Ambivius  to  Philip,  through  Philip  to  Pacifica, 
and  through  Pacifica  to  the  King.  When  Doress 
mentioned  these  to  Ambivius,  it  was  always  this 
impostor's  aim  to  make  them  tell  with  deadliest  force 
while  yet  he  assumed  the  role  of  the  defender  of  his 
dear  brother,  and  the  palliator  of  all  his  offences.  He 
often  posed  as  an  intercessor  between  him  and  his 
incensed  father.  Yet  all  the  while  he  was  accomplishing 
his  secret  object  of  enhancing  his  own  apparent  merits, 
and  leaving  the  King  more  furious  against  Hilaris,  and 
more  convinced  that  the  harmless  youth  was  a  secret 
traitor. 

Ambivius  did  all  this  so  well,  and  was  so  entirely 
unsuspected,  that,  on  one  occasion,  the  two  young 
fiends,  Eris  and  Psithuros,  laughed  outright,  and 
noiselessly  remarked  to  each  other  that  some  day 
Ambivius  would  be  a  most  effectual  ally  in  the  demon 
coterie  of  Ashmod — perhaps  almost  a  rival  to  Hara 
himself !  And  as  for  Ambivius,  when  he  left  the 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     201 

presence  of  Doress,  he  too  laughed  in  his  evil  heart,  and 
said,  '  Thanks  to  my  good  management  I  now  have  all 
the  threads  of  the  web  in  my  own  hands,  and  my 
success  is  certain.  I  shall  be  king— and  then  !  ' 

And  thus  the  unfortunate  Hilaris,  who  had  neither 
the  desire  nor  the  capacity  to  become  a  conspirator, 
was  gradually  entangled  hand  and  foot  in  a  stake-net 
of  destruction. 


VIII 

What  wounds  sorer  than  an  evil  tongue  ? — PHILLIPS. 

FOE  now  the  hapless  Prince,  undermined  by  the 
brother  whom  he  regarded  as  his  best  friend,  was 
constantly  received  by  his  father  with  coldness,  or  with 
frowns  and  black  looks,  or  with  bursts  of  ill-humour 
and  contemptuous  taunts  ;  and  these  gradually  passed, 
first  into  veiled,  then  into  open  threats.  The  whole 
nature  of  the  young  man — which  was  frank  and  harm- 
less— revolted  against  this  treatment.  Why  was  his 
father  so  grossly  unjust,  so  brutally  unkind  ?  What 
harm  had  he  done  ?  If  he  ventured  to  ask  the  King 
wherein  he  had  offended,  he  was  cut  short  with  mocking 
sneers  as  to  his  clever  assumption  of  ignorance.  No 
opportunity  was  afforded  him — Ambivius  took  good 
care  of  that— of  a  quiet  explanation,  or  of  probing  to 
the  bottom  the  charges  which  he  supposed  must  have 
been  made  against  him. 

Prince    Innocens    saw     this    state    of   things    and 


202  ALLEGORIES 

suspected  how  it  arose ;  but,  having  no  ostensible  ground 
to  urge  for  his  suspicions,  he  thought  that  it  would  be 
calumnious,  or  at  least  uncharitable,  on  his  part  to  give 
expression  to  them.  Besides  this,  Ambivius  was  now 
so  constantly  closeted  with  the  King,  was  so  completely 
the  chosen  sharer  of  his  amusements  and  of  his  leisure, 
that  Innocens  found  it  more  and  more  difficult  to 
get  opportunities  for  confidential  intercourse  with  his 
father. 

There  was  a  dark  reason  why  Doress  did  not  himself 
seek  more  of  the  society  of  his  youngest  and  favourite 
son.  Ambivius  had  succeeded  in  instilling  into  the 
mind  of  Doress  a  suspicion  that  both  of  his  sons  by 
Queen  Leila,  however  much  they  might  conceal  their 
feelings,  yet  cherished  against  him  a  veiled  indignation 
for  the  execution  of  their  mother,  and  nourished  a  secret 
design  of  avenging  it  upon  the  other  members  of  the 
King's  family.  Now,  when  Leila  had  been  so  cruelly 
done  to  death,  Innocens  had  been  very  young,  and 
immense  pains  had  been  taken  to  keep  him  in  ignorance 
of  the  facts.  He  had  simply  been  told  that,  while  he 
and  his  brother  were  absent,  their  mother  had  died  ;  and 
the  King  had  threatened  to  torture  and  execute  any  one 
who  revealed  to  him  the  real  state  of  the  case.  But  it 
had  been  impossible  to  prevent  the  knowledge  from 
ultimately  reaching  him;  for  Hilaris,  who  had  been 
aware  of  it  from  the  first,  told  his  brother  how  things 
stood.  Now  Hilaris,  chiefly  through  being  goaded  on 
by  Ambivius  at  passionate  moments,  had  sometimes 
spoken  with  indignation  of  his  mother's  execution,  and 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     203 

had  threatened  to  inflict  vengeance  some  day  upon  those 
by  whom  she  had  been  brought  to  the  scaffold.  All  this 
had  been  reported  to  the  King  with  added  particulars.  It 
was  the  one  point  upon  which  his  wounded  conscience 
was  most  sore,  and  on  such  a  subject  it  was  impossible 
that  he  could  ever  talk  with  the  boy  whose  mother  he 
had  doomed  so  unjustly  to  the  sword. 

And  now  all  the  worst  demons  who  from  early  days 
had  established  a  lien  on  the  character  of  the  magnifi- 
cent King  tightened  their  clutch  upon  his  hair.  His 
career  was  ripe  for  fresh  catastrophes,  caused  partly  by 
the  lack  of  manly  firmness  in  Hilaris,  but  mostly  by 
the  King's  own  evil  passions,  the  guilty  memories  of 
his  past,  and  the  diabolical  machinations  of  his  eldest 
son. 

For  to  Prince  Hilaris  life  became  quite  intolerable. 
He  was  ready  for  almost  anything.  Death  itself  would 
be  a  deliverance  from  the  crushing  weight  of  his  father's 
rage  and  injustice.  On  one  occasion  he  had  even  been 
ordered  into  chains,  and  had  only  been  reprieved  at 
the  hypocritical  intercession  of  Ambivius.  Existence 
became  a  burden  and  a  weariness  to  the  unhappy  young 
man. 

He  had  returned  to  his  quarter  of  the  palace  after 
one  of  the  stormy  interviews  which  were  now  of 
constant  occurrence  between  him  and  the  King.  His 
father  had  raved  at  him,  had  overwhelmed  him  with 
reproaches,  had  covered  him  with  shameful  vitupera- 
tion, and  that  in  the  presence  of  others.  Goaded  by 
the  sense  of  immeasurable  wrong,  Hilaris  had  fired  up, 


204  ALLEGORIES 

had  answered  his  father  back,  had  spoken  of  his  unjust 
tyranny ;  at  last,  to  the  horror  of  the  attendant  guards, 
had  been  so  transported  by  passion  as  to  exclaim  : 

1  Do  you  want  to  murder  me,  as  you  murdered 
my ' 

Before  he  had  uttered  the  word  '  mother,'  the  King 
strode  upon  him  with  eyes  of  flame  and  felled  him  to 
the  earth  with  one  blow  of  his  mighty  right  hand. 

A  dead  silence  fell  on  all.  Hilaris  rose,  and  with 
bent  head  and  bleeding  face,  shamed  beyond  expression, 
was  led  out  of  the  hall  by  his  weeping  wife.  He  went 
to  his  rooms,  and  there  Ambivius  immediately  visited 
him,  to  all  appearances  overwhelmed  with  grief,  but  in 
reality  laughing  and  triumphant  in  his  black  heart, 
assured  that  his  day  of  triumph  was  now  very  near  at 
hand. 

Hilaris,  his  cheek  bruised  and  swollen,  was  too 
much  depressed  to  speak.  Ambivius  took  his  hand, 
fondled  it,  and  murmured  condoling  words  and  titles 
of  endearment,  till  at  last  the  sorrow  burst  in  a  flood 
from  the  overburdened  heart  of  Hilaris,  and  he  wept 
on  his  brother's  neck. 

'  What  can  I  do- for  you  ?  '  said  Ambivius  ;  '  I  would 
do  anything.  I  have  again  and  again  interceded  with 
the  King  for  you,  even  to  my  own  peril.' 

'I  know  that  you  are  good  and  true,'  said  Hilaris. 

'  I  wish,  oh  how  I  wish,  that  you  had  some  one  to 
protect  you.  But  who  is  more  powerful  than  King 
Doress  ?  No  one,  I  suppose,  unless  it  be  the  Emperor 
of  Dumi  ? ' 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     205 

The  words,  and  their  probable  effect,  had  been  most 
accurately  calculated.  Hilaris  seemed  struck  by  them. 
That  night  the  angry  King  was  put  on  the  same  trail. 
Vast  as  was  his  own  power,  it  was  overshadowed  by  that 
of  the  Emperor  of  Dumi,  the  grandest  potentate  in  the 
Purple  Island.  If  there  was  one  thing  which  Doress 
resented  more  than  another,  it  was  any  attempt  to 
invoke  the  action  of  the  Emperor  in  the  kingdom  of 
Elkuds.  The  least  step  in  that  direction  he  regarded 
as  the  worst  form  of  high  treason.  He  had  felt  a 
momentary  remorse  to  think  that  he  had  smitten  his 
own  heir  apparent  to  the  ground  in  the  presence  of  his 
courtiers,  but  now  his  feelings  were  still  more  madly 
exacerbated,  when  Philip,  prompted  by  Ambivius,  ven- 
tured to  say  to  him,  '  I  hope,  sir,  that  Prince  Hilaris 
will  not  ask  protection  from  the  Emperor  of  Dumi.' 
Maddened  by  such  a  suggestion,  Doress  threatened 
then  and  there  to  have  Hilaris  seized  and  thrown  into 
a  dungeon.  But  this  would  not  have  suited  the  plans 
of  Ambivius.  He  wanted  the  youth's  death,  not  his 
incarceration ;  and  he  interceded  so  passionately  for 
him  that  he  persuaded  the  King  to  have  patience. 
Ambivius  promised  to  watch  over  his  interests  with  all 
tenderness,  and  to  see  that  he  received  no  harm  from 
the  plots  of  Hilaris. 

The  next  step  was  to  induce  Hilaris  really  to  write 
co  the  Emperor  of  Dumi ;  and  this,  in  the  sore  state  of 
the  young  man's  mind — cruelly  insulted  as  he  felt  him- 
self to  be — was  not  difficult.  Ambivius  had  already 
planted  the  germ  of  the  suggestion.  He  now  persuaded 


206  ALLEGOEIES 

the  page  of  Hilaris  to  condole  with  his  master,  to 
express  indignation  at  the  conduct  of  King  Doress,  and 
to  persuade  him  to  write  a  line  entreating  the  Emperor 
to  protect  him  from  further  outrage. 

But  Hilaris  did  not  venture  to  go  so  far.  He  knew 
the  Emperor,  and  knew  that  he  was  not  uninterested 
in  his  welfare ;  for,  during  his  early  boyhood,  Hilaris 
had  spent  several  years  at  the  court  of  Dumi,  that 
he  might  receive  the  best  education,  and  obtain  some 
insight  into  the  principles  of  law  and  government. 
He  thought,  therefore,  that  he  might  secretly  venture 
— not  by  any  means  to  invoke  the  Emperor's  pro- 
tection— but,  since  he  was  wholly  innocent  of  wrong- 
doing, to  write  and  ask  if  he  would  intercede  for  him, 
and  persuade  his  father  not  to  misjudge  him,  nor  to 
treat  him  with  such  galling  cruelty. 

The  letter  was  written  ;  Ambivius  knew  that  it  was 
going  to  be  written,  and  his  object  was  to  gain  posses- 
sion of  it.  The  page  promised  that  he  should  see  it ; 
but  his  treachery  did  not  go  so  far,  even  under  the 
secret  hints  of  his  corrupter,  as  to  forge  another  in  its 
place.  Ambivius  therefore  opened  an  intrigue  with  a 
girl,  the  daughter  of  the  slave  messenger  who  would, 
he  knew,  be  entrusted  with  any  letter  which  might 
be  sent.  As  this  slave  was  incorruptible  by  bribes, 
Ambivius  promised  an  immense  reward  to  the  young 
girl  if  she  would  get  possession  of  the  letter  for  a  single 
hour,  and  bring  it  to  him.  This  was  the  more  easy 
since  his  spies  had  ascertained  the  day  on  which  the 
messenger  was  to  start  for  Dumi.  The  bad  Prince 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  207 

waited  in  disguise  to  receive  from  the  girl  the  fateful 
letter,  and,  on  receiving  it,  rushed  to  his  rooms,  cut 
the  silken  band,  opened  the  seal.  But  the  letter  was 
not  strong  and  incriminating  enough  for  his  purpose. 
Skilled  in  the  arts  of  forgery  he  erased  a  few  phrases, 
and  substituted  others  far  stronger  and  more  stinging. 
He  also  dexterously  altered  the  humble  request  for  the 
Emperor's  intercession  into  an  urgent  request  for  his 
armed  intervention,  and  so  made  the  letter  treasonable 
in  the  highest  degree.  It  was  this  letter,  with  its 
forged  interpolations,  which  he  handed  back  to  the 
slave  girl,  receiving  from  her  at  the  same  time  the 
news  that  it  was  to  be  sent  the  next  day  sewed  up  in 
the  messenger's  robe. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost.  Ambivius  asked  the  King 
whether  it  would  not  be  desirable  to  have  the  roads 
watched,  so  that  any  messenger  to  the  Emperor  might 
be  arrested.  The  suggestion  fell  in  with  the  King's 
suspicions.  The  slave  of  Hilaris  was  arrested  early  the 
next  morning  and  brought  before  the  King  and  some  of 
his  assessors.  A  letter  was  found  on  him,  but  it  was  a 
harmless  request,  not  to  the  Emperor,  but  to  one  of  his 
sons,  that  he  would  purchase  for  Hilaris  a  few  of  the 
finely  wrought  jewels  of  Dumi's  capital  to  be  given  as 
a  present  to  his  young  wife. 

'  That  cannot  be  all,'  said  Doress.  '  Slave,  you 
shall  .be  stretched  on  the  rack  if  you  do  not  confess 
you  are  the  bearer  of  other  missives.' 

At  this  point  Ambivius  whispered  something  into 
the  ear  of  Philip,  who  said,  *  Before  the  slave  is 


208  ALLEGORIES 

tortured,  sire,  permit  me  for  one  moment  to  deal  with 
him.' 

Leave  was  granted. 

'Hold  up  both  your  arms  in  the  air,'  said  Philip  to 
the  slave,  '  and  remain  standing  so.' 

The  slave  did  as  he  was  ordered,  and  Philip  felt  his 
outer  garment.  There  was  nothing  there ;  but  when 
he  proceeded  to  examine  the  inner  tunic  he  noticed  that- 
one  of  the  folds  was  almost  imperceptibly  thicker  than 
the  other. 

'  Give  me  a  knife,'  he  exclaimed. 

A  courtier  handed  him  one.  He  ripped  open  the 
seam  of  the  tunic,  and  there  the  letter  was  found  con- 
cealed. 

It  was  read  aloud  in  the  form  into  which  Ambivius 
had  forged  it,  and  was  heard  with  a  shudder  of  horror. 

'  Take  that  slave  and  execute  him,'  said  the  King  to 
his  headsman.  '  The  Prince  shall  be  tried  before  our 
chief  judge  to-morrow.' 


IX 

L'hypocrisie   est   un   hommage   que  le   vice   rend  a  la  vertu. — LA 

KOCHEFOUCAULT. 

THE  trial  was  held  with  all  solemnity.  The  whole 
court  of  judges  was  summoned  to  sit  in  judgment  on 
Prince  Hilaris,  who  was  brought  before  them  in  chains,  in 
the  garments  of  woe,  and  in  the  deepest  dejection.  The 
case  was  so  serious,  the  guilt  so  apparent,  the  terror 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  209 

inspired  by  the  King's  wrath  so  abject,  that  no  one 
dared  openly  to  sympathise  with  him  except  his 
brother,  Prince  Innocens.  The  boy  stood  beside  him 
in  mourning  habiliments,  with  his  flowing  curls  cut 
short  and  his  eyes  bathed  in  tears.  But  every  one  saw 
that  Hilaris  was  hopelessly  doomed,  when  the  King 
himself,  hurried  by  rage  into  total  loss  of  dignity,  stood 
up  as  the  accuser  of  his  own  son.  He  poured  upon  him 
such  a  torrent  of  invective  that  Hilaris,  conscious  of 
no  crime,  and  believing  that  he  had  once  possessed  his 
father's  love,  raised  for  a  moment  his  downcast  eyes, 
aghast  at  such  a  revelation  of  unsuspected  hatred. 
The  incriminating  letter  was  read ;  the  evidence  of 
various  spies  as  to  things  which  Hilaris  had  incautiously 
said  was  given  ;  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  left  but 
to  pronounce  sentence.  Then  Ambivius  arose,  and,  with 
consummate  acting  and  unctuous  hypocrisy,  spoke  for 
Hilaris.  '  I  assume,'  he  said,  'that  the  letter  is  genuine. 
Of  that  there  can,  I  suppose,  be  no  doubt,  since  it  was 
found  concealed  in  the  tunic  of  a  confidential  slave. 
But  Prince  Hilaris  is  young.  The  letter,  it  is  true, 
involves  the  guilt  of  high  treason ;  but  certainly  my 
brother  has  meant  much  less  than  he  said.  His  main 
fault  has  only  been  one  of  hasty  imprudence.  May 

he  not,  guilty  though  he  be ' 

At  this  point  Prince  Innocens  fixed  the  full  gaze  of 
his  blue  eyes  upon  Ambivius.  The  effect  was  astonish- 
ing. The  plotter  could  not  meet  the  light  of  those 
pure  eyes.  His  artificial  graces  collapsed  ;  his  flowing 
rhetoric  ended  in  a  stammer ;  his  falsetto  pathos  became 

p 


210  ALLEGORIES 

unavailing.  He  hesitated,  lost  the  thread  of  his  oration, 
his  face  grew  dark  with  every  bad  passion  ; — he  sat 
down.  It  was  a  sudden,  strange,  and  ignominious 
collapse.  All  rejoiced  in  secret  over  his  utter  discom- 
fiture ;  none  more  so  than  the  fiends  whose  agent  he 
had  long  been,  for  they  were  secure  of  him,  and  now 
their  work  was  done. 

Then  a  strange  thing  happened.  To  all  outward 
appearance  Ambivius  had  seemed  to  be  the  most 
popular  personage  in  the  whole  palace.  Every  one  said 
he  was,  and  therefore  every  one  assumed  it  to  be  so.  But 
the  disguises  of  hypocrisy  have  an  awkward  way  of 
slipping  off,  and  once  or  twice  the  demons,  out  of  sheer 
mischief,  had  pulled  the  strings  of  their  votary's  mask 
from  behind,  and  had  revealed  the  real  features  of 
Ambivius,  just  when  it  was  most  inopportune  for  him 
that  they  should  be  seen.  It  was  impossible  for  him 
always  to  coin  his  lips  into  smiles,  and  to  wear  the  look 
of  radiant  and  simple-hearted  amiability.  His  nominal 
friends  had  not  unfrequently  surprised  an  expression  on 
his  features  which  seemed  to  underlie  the  one  which 
he  intended.  Besides  this  it  had  been  indispensable 
that  he  should  discover  himself  to  some  few  of  his 
spies  and  agents  in  his  true  guise.  In  some  strange 
way  hatred  and  suspicion  of  this  popular  prince  were 
everywhere  in  the  air.  And  when  he  sullenly  resumed 
his  seat,  though  no  one  knew  all  the  facts  of  his 
black  treachery,  yet  to  their  own  general  amazement 
almost  every  one  joined  in  a  low  unmistakable  hiss. 
There  was  an  indefinable  unuttered  expression  of 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     211 

aversion  the  moment  that  he  was  cut  short  in  his 
unctuous  envenomed  pleading,  and  hastily  stopped, 
overwhelmed  with  confusion. 

The  King's  own  mind  was  too  much  blinded  by 
jealous  passions  to  enable  him  even  to  notice,  much 
less  to  understand,  the  significance  of  the  occurrence. 
He  said  to  Hilaris  in  an  ominous  voice,  *  Traitor, 
what  have  you  to  say  in  defence  of  your  treason  ? ' 

'  Sire,'  said  Hilaris  in  a  quiet  tone,  and  with  un- 
wonted dignity  of  manner,  '  in  one  sense  I  am  guilty, 
if  you  so  regard  it.  I  did  write  a  letter  to  the 
Emperor  of  Dumi,  who  was  kind  to  me  when  I  was  a 
boy,  and  I  did  ask  him  to  intercede  for  me.  I  did  not 
write  the  letter  which  has  been  read  in  court.  It  has 
been  altered  by  forgery.' 

*  A  likely  story  ! '  said  the  King.  *  Is  this  your 
seal  ?  ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  And  the  silken  band  you  use  ?  ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  And  was  the  slave  whom  I  have  ordered  to  the 
block  your  confidential  messenger  ?  ' 

'Yes.' 

'  And  is  this  letter  in  your  handwriting  ?  ' 

'  I  wrote  most  of  it ;  but  some  words  have  been 
altered  by  forgery.' 

The  defence,  however,  seemed  desperately  impro- 
bable. Hilaris  admitted  that,  with  his  own  hand,  he  had 
given  the  letter  to  the  slave  the  night  before  he  started. 
No  interpolation  could  be  detected,  for  Ambivius  had 

p  2 


212  ALLEGORIES 

done  his  work  with  accomplished  skill.  Who  could 
have  stolen  the  letter  ?  In  whose  interest  could  it 
have  been  altered  ?  One  person,  and  one  only,  sus- 
pected the  real  state  of  the  case — Prince  Innocens. 
But  he  dared  not  utter  a  suspicion  for  which  he  had 
no  shadow  of  evidence — only  he  once  more  fixed  his 
gaze  on  Ambivius,  and  once  more  Ambivius  confirmed 
his  misgivings  by  visibly  shrinking,  and  growing  pale 
beneath  his  glance. 

The  judges  gave  their  sentence.  Prince  Hilaris  was 
doomed  to  die  that  evening,  as  a  convicted  traitor,  by 
the  sword  of  the  executioner. 

No  sooner  was  the  court  broken  up  than  Innocens 
sought  his  father.  He  still  wore  the  dress  of  a 
suppliant ;  he  had  even  sprinkled  ashes  over  his  fair 
hair.  When  he  entered  the  presence-chamber  Ambi- 
vius was  with  the  King,  explaining  that  he  had 
only  broken  down  from  extreme  emotion  !  The  King 
was  praising  his  generosity  to  his  brother.  Innocens 
quietly  said  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  the  King  alone, 
and  requested  Ambivius  to  retire.  Then  the  princely 
boy  prostrated  himself  at  his  father's  feet,  and  clasped 
them,  and  bathed  them  with  his  tears,  and  implored 
pardon,  or  at  least  a  reprieve,  for  Hilaris. 

'  He  has  sinned  too  deeply  for  pardon,'  answered 
Doress  sullenly.  '  Princes  who  indulge  in  high  treason 
must  die  the  death.' 

'  Father,'  said  the  boy,  *  what  Hilaris  said  in  court 
was  the  simple  truth.  I  cannot  prove  it ;  but  I  am  as 
convinced  of  it  as  I  am  of  my  own  existence,  for  I  can 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  213 

read  his  thoughts  as  clearly  as  if  they  were  written  in 
a  book.' 

'Your  goodness  blinds  you  to  the  guilt  of  others, 
my  poor  boy,'  said  the  King.  '  The  defence  of  Hilaris 
was  absurd  and  impossible  on  the  face  of  it.  What 
he  was  forced  to  admit  was  itself  criminal ;  and  who 
could  have  got  hold  of  his  letter,  or  would  have  dared 
to  put  forged  interpolations  into  his  confessed  message  ?  ' 

The  King  put  his  hands  on  his  son's  shoulder,  and 
gazed  into  his  eyes  as  though  he  would  read  his  inmost 
soul.  Innocens  fearlessly  and  guilelessly  met  that 
searching  gaze.  And  then,  somehow,  without  a  word 
being  uttered,  Doress  read  in  the  unspoken  thoughts 
of  Innocens,  '  Ambivius  is  guilty.  Ambivius  is  the 
forger  !  '  With  a  start  of  surprise  he  became  conscious 
of  the  boy's  conviction;  with  yet  deeper  surprise  it 
flashed  upon  him  that  perhaps  the  boy  was  right.  Yet 
how  could  such  a  thing  be  ?  Was  not  Ambivius  the 
trusted  friend,  the  constant  defender  of  Hilaris  ? 

All  that  Doress  said  was,  'Impossible,  my  son, 
impossible.' 

'  And  must  Hilaris  die  ?  ' 

'  All  the  judges  have  found  him  guilty.    He  must  die. ' 

'  0  father,  father  !  Will  you  not  even  listen  to  my 
intercession  ?  ' 

'  I  have  already  refused  the  intercession  of  your 
elder  brother,  Ambivius,'  said  the  King  ;  and  again, 
though  Innocens  spoke  no  word,  yet  as  Doress  looked 
into  his  eyes  he  read  the  thought,  The  intercession  of 
Ambivius  was  a  guilty  sham  ! 


214  ALLEGORIES 

But  Doress  would  not  admit  the  suspicion.  He 
turned  away  and  said,  '  You  plead  in  vain :  Hilaris 
must  die.' 

Innocens  burst  into  a  storm  of  sobs  and  tears,  and 
with  a  breaking  heart  went  to  the  prison  of  Hilaris. 
Strange  to  say  he  found  him  cheerful,  almost  happy, 
and  altogether  fearless.  He  had  spoken  his  last  fare- 
wells to  his  wife.  Life  under  its  present  conditions  had 
no  charm  for  him.  He  was  ready  to  die. 

The  young  Prince  had  scarcely  entered  when 
Ambivius,  with  cruel  and  deadly  falsity,  came  in  to  see 
him  for  the  last  time.  Hilaris  would  have  received  him, 
but  Innocens  rose,  and  with  a  gesture  of  command,  and 
an  accent  more  passionately  stern  than  Hilaris  had  ever 
heard  him  utter,  ordered  him  not  to  enter.  To  the 
astonishment  of  Hilaris,  the  eldest  son  of  Doress 
obeyed  the  boy,  and  went  sheepishly  out. 

'  What  means  this  ?  '  asked  Hilaris. 

1  We  need  not  talk  of  it  now,  my  brother,'  answered 
Innocens  ;  '  but  that  man  is  the  forger,  that  man  is  your 
betrayer !  ' 

'  Oh,  the  accursed,  the  unutterable  hypocrite  !  ' 
groaned  Hilaris,  detecting  as  in  one  flash  of  insight 
the  subterranean  Erebus  of  plots  into  which  he  had 
been  entrapped. 

'  Think  not  of  him  now,  dear  brother,'  said  Innocens. 
'  Be  sure  that  ere  long  his  sin  will  find  him  out.' 

Innocens  sat  down  by  Hilaris  on  the  stone  bench  by 
the  dungeon  wall,  and  took  his  chained  hand.  He  told 
him  of  his  suspicions,  he  told  him  of  his  fruitless 


INNOCENS    SAT   DOWN    BY   HIM    AND    TOOK   HIS    CHAINED    HAND 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     217 

intercession  with  the  King,  and  he  said  that  he  would 
stay  with  him  until  the  fatal  hour  arrived.  Then 
there  blossomed  up  between  them  the  sweet  flowers 
of  happy  childish  memories  of  years  while  yet  their 
mother  lived,  and  of  the  days  when  they  were  happy 
boys  together  at  the  court  of  the  Emperor.  And  they 
hoped  for  the  time  when,  haply,  they  should  meet 
again  with  their  beautiful  injured  mother  in  a  better 
home.  And  together  they  knelt  down  and  lifted  their 
hearts  to  Elyon  and  his  son  Imrah  who  had  lived  and 
died  to  save  the  sinful  and  sorrowing  denizens  of  the 
Purple  Island. 

And  while  they  were  talking,  hand  in  hand,  hardly 
conscious  how  the  time  passed,  the  summons  of  the 
executioner  was  heard  at  the  dungeon  door,  and  in  his 
black  mask  the  man  stood  there  in  silence,  leaning  on 
his  massive  sword. 

'  Farewell,  dear  brother,'  said  Hilaris.  '  My  life  of 
late  has  been  none  so  sweet  that  I  should  greatly 
desire  to  prolong  it ;  nor,  faulty  as  I  have  been — very 
very  faulty  and  foolish —have  I  lived  so  bad  a  life  that 
I  should  fear  the  swift  stroke  of  death.  Elyon  will 
forgive  my  faults  ;  Imrah  will  wash  them  white.' 

'  I  will  walk  with  you  to  the  place  of  doom,  my 
brother,'  said  Innocens,  weeping  on  his  neck. 

Hilaris  entreated  him  to  spare  himself  the  terrible 
spectacle  ;  but  Innocens  would  not  suffer  his  brother 
to  die  alone.  He  walked  with  him,  hand  in  hand, 
to  the  block.  Then,  murmuring  his  last  almost  in- 
audible words  of  prayer,  and  hope,  and  courage,  and 


218  ALLEGORIES 

farewell,  he  withdrew  a  few  paces,  knelt  down,  and  hid 
his  face  in  his  hands.  A  moment  after  he  heard  the 
awful  stroke,  the  dull  thud,  the  plash  of  rushing  blood 
which  told  him  that  Hilaris  was  dead. 

He  sank  senseless  on  the  stone  floor,  and  was  carried 
to  his  room. 


'  TBIUMPH  !  triumph  ! '  shouted  Hara  as  he  entered  the 
shrine  of  King  Ashmod,  and  saluted  the  demon-chief. 
'  Did  I  not  say  that  I  would  make  a  splendid  devasta- 
tion, an  anticipated  hell  of  the  most  gorgeous  palace, 
and  a  wreck  and  ruin  of  the  most  magnificent  king  in 
the  Purple  Island  ?  ' 

'  You  have  done  fairly  well,'  said  Ashmod. 

'  Fairly  well  ? '  repeated  Hara  sullenly.  '  Doress  has 
slain  his  wife,  he  has  slain  his  son  ;  what  more  would 
Ashmod  have  ? ' 

'  There  is  yet  Prince  Innocens,'  said  Ashmod. 
'  Complete  your  work  !  ' 

'  I  hate,  hate,  hate  Ashmod,'  said  Hara  as  he  left 
the  presence. 

'  So  do  we,'  snarled  a  whole  chorus  of  fiends. 

1  He  neither  praises  nor  rewards  me,  though  I  have 
done  all  the  work.' 

'  You?  '  said  Jealousy.     '  It  was  I  that  did  it  all.' 

'  And  J,'  said  Hatred.    '  You  only  looked  on,  Hara.' 

'  And  I  more  than  all  three,'  said  Suspicion. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     219 

'  Silence,  you  curs  of  Gehenna ! '  said  Hara,  lashing 
at  them  madly  with  an  iron  scourge,  till  they  fled  and 
howled  at  him,  gnashing  their  teeth.  '  You  may  be 
masters  of  those  fools  of  Porphyrians,  but  you  are  slaves 
to  me,  and  if  you  dare  to  disobey  me  I  will  fling  you 
into  boiling  pitch  !  ' 

And  the  horrid  rafters  rang  with  shrieks  and  wailing, 
and  yells  and  howls. 


XI 

Per  quae  peccat  quis,  per  haec  et  torquetur. 

KING  DOEESS  could  not  shake  off  the  impression  of 
unspoken  misgiving  which  he  had  read  in  the  eyes  of 
Innocens.  He  once  more  fell  into  the  mood  of  in- 
describable anguish  from  which  he  had  suffered  after 
the  doom  of  Leila.  His  affections  were  naturally 
strong,  though  they  could  be  swept  away  as  by  a 
deluge  before  the  demons  of  Jealousy,  Anger,  and 
Suspicion,  to  whom  he  had  given  up  the  possession  of 
his  soul.  He  became  once  more  a  terribly  haunted 
man.  That  very  night  Queen  Leila,  in  her  white 
blood-besprinkled  robe,  stood  by  his  bed  and  said  to  him, 
'  Most  miserable  of  all  kings,  murderer  of  thy  wife, 
murderer  of  thy  son.  Repent !  beware  !  thine  end  is 
nigh  !  '  He  awoke  with  a  shriek  of  terror,  and  slept  no 
more. 

Ambivius  had  been  more  disturbed   than  he  had 


220  ALLEGORIES 

dared  to  confess  by  the  way  in  which  his  conscious 
guilt  had  been  cowed  before  the  pure  insight  of  his 
young  brother.  He  needed  change  to  rally  his  scattered 
forces,  and  to  mature  the  unfulfilled  designs  which 
should  at  last  gratify  his  burning  ambition.  And  the 
fiends  to  whom  he  had  sold  his  soul  saw  that  now  the 
time  had  come  to  hurl  him  over  the  last  precipice  of 
crime  and  ruin. 

He  went  to  the  King,  whose  obvious  coldness 
showed  him  that  his  suspicions  had  been  awakened, 
and,  saying  that  his  feelings  were  harrowed  by  recent 
events,  asked  leave  to  travel  through  the  dominions 
of  his  Majesty  for  a  year,  and  to  visit  his  principal 
cities. 

Doress  gave  him  leave,  and,  for  the  first  time,  felt 
secretly  glad  to  get  rid  of  him  and  to  be  left  alone  with 
his  pure  and  beloved  Innocens. 

Ambivius  started  on  his  journey ;  but  nothing  was 
farther  from  his  intentions  than  to  withdraw  his  hand 
from  the  wheel-work  of  intrigue^  which  he  had  already 
set  in  motion.  Philip  with  his  wife  Rhoda  were  now 
bound  to  him,  hand  and  foot,  by  personal  complicity 
with  his  plots.  Indeed  he  had  established  over  Rhoda 
a  sort  of  ascendency  which  compelled  her  to  be  obedient 
to  his  bidding.  Before  he  started  on  his  journey  he  had 
agreed  upon  a  secret  cypher  in  which  he  could  correspond 
with  them. 

After  a  few  weeks  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Philip  in 
this  cypher,  in  which,  finally  throwing  off  the  mask, 
'  The  King,'  he  said,  '  is  now  old,  and  wretched,  and 


THE   FORTUNES   OF  A  ROYAL   HOUSE  221 

useless.  To  what  purpose  is  it  that  he  should  linger 
on,  a  mass  of  mental  and  bodily  disease ?  It  is  in  the 
nature  of  things  that  he  should  seem  to  have  died  of 
illness,  even  if  his  death  be  a  little  hastened.  If  he 
dies,  of  course  I  shall  succeed  to  his  dominions. 
Innocens  is  out  of  the  question ;  he  is  too  young  to 
rule,  and  lacks  the  necessary  gifts  ;  I  will  look  after 
him.  To  prevent  any  accident  I  have  a  forged  will 
ready  if  necessary,  but  I  also  have  an  understanding 
with  some  of  the  captains  of  the  bodyguard,  and,  in 
case  of  the  King's  death,  I  shall  be  ready  to  seize  the 
vacant  throne.  If  I  should  chance  to  send  you — well, 
I  will  call  it  a  powerful  medicine,  or  a  love  potion,  or 
a  powder  of  succession — will  you  and  Ehoda  make  use 
of  it  for  the  necessary  purpose?  If  ^  you  will,  I  will 
immediately  give  you  fifty  talents  of  gold,  and  I  further 
pledge  myself  by  oath  to  confer  upon  you  the  rule  of 
an  independent  principality.' 

Philip  and  Ehoda  had  been  already  too  deeply  im- 
mersed in  crime  to  make  it  easy  for  them  to  recede. 
If  Ambivius  fell,  was  it  not  inevitable  that  they  should 
fall  with  him  ?  Could  he  not  bring  down  the  axe  upon 
both  their  necks  ?  Besides,  he  offered  a  splendid  bait 
to  their  ambition  and  their  greed.  To  enjoy  all  that 
gold,  and  to  wear  the  crowns  of  independent  princes — 
would  it  not  be  grand? 

Philip  wrote  back  that  he  was  at  the  disposal  of 
Ambivius.  The  huge  bribe  was  handed  over  to  him 
under  the  guise  of  a  great  architectural  design.  The 
poison  was  conveyed  to  him  by  an  unsuspecting  slave 


222  ALLEGORIES 

who  believed  himself  to  be  carrying  a  vial  of  fragrant 
and  healing  oil. 

But  there  are  many  stumbling-blocks  in  the  path 
of  crime — stumbling-blocks  colossal  and  unforeseen. 
Philip  was  not  a  born  criminal;  he  had  only  succumbed 
to  the  fascinations  and  temptations  of  a  stronger  and 
more  resolute  villain.  Ehoda  too  had  terrible  twinges 
of  conscience.  They  could  not  make  up  their  minds  to 
use  the  poison.  They  often  consulted  about  the  advisa- 
bility of  revealing  the  whole  plot  and  flinging  themselves 
on  the  King's  mercy  ;  and  all  the  more  because — since 
the  execution  of  Prince  Hilaris — every  one  had  begun 
to  avow  the  most  undisguised  detestation  of  the  absent 
Ambivius. 

Agitated  by  fear  and  remorse,  Philip  fell  into  a 
burning  fever.  He  became  so  seriously  ill  that  his 
recovery  was  declared  to  be  impossible.  No  sooner 
had  he  heard  his  doom  than  he  sent  for  his  wife, 
and  bade  her  instantly  to  fling  away  the  poison. 

That  afternoon  the  dying  man  was  surprised  and 
touched  by  a  visit  from  the  great  King  himself.  The 
visit  was  one  of  simple  kindness.  Doress  was  attached 
to  his  sister  Pacifica,  and  had  always  liked  her  eldest 
son,  Philip.  He  spoke  to  him  with  the  greatest  affection, 
and  gave  orders  to  his  own  physician  to  attend  him, 
and  treat  him  with  the  utmost  care. 

Philip  burst  into  tears,  and,  rallying  all  the  little 
strength  which  he  had  left,  he  wrote  with  feeble  hand 
a  confession  of  his  crimes,  to  be  handed  to  the  King 
as  soon  as  he  was  dead.  He  died  that  night.  The 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  223 

King  read  his  confession  with  horror.  Rhoda  and 
several  of  her  slaves  were  arrested  and  kept  in  custody. 
A  swift  messenger  was  sent  to  summon  Ambivius 
home.  But  everything  was  done  in  the  profoundest 
secrecy,  and  the  roads  were  guarded  to  prevent  him 
from  receiving  any  intelligence.  He  came  back  know- 
ing nothing,  and  suspecting  nothing,  until  he  entered 
the  city.  Then,  indeed,  it  seemed  to  him  a  direful 
omen  that  no  one  met  him ;  all  shunned  him ;  none 
returned  his  greetings.  But  it  was  too  late  to  escape. 
Summoning  all  his  impudence  he  entered  his  father's 
presence  with  a  gay  smile,  and  advanced  to  offer  him  a 
warm  embrace. 

'  Parricide  ! '  thundered  the  King.  '  Would  yon 
murder  your  father,  and  yet  embrace  him  ?  ' 

At  those  words  the  edifice  of  all  the  young  man's 
ambitions  was  shattered  as  by  a  lightning  stroke. 

'  Guards,  put  him  in  chains !     Take  him  to  prison ! ' 

Next  day  he  was  tried.  The  confession  of  Philip 
was  read  aloud.  The  slave  who  had  carried  the  vial  was 
produced.  Ehoda  was  led  into  court,  and  the  King 
promised  her  complete  pardon  if  she  would  reveal  the 
simple  truth.  She  did  so.  She  ratified  all  the  evidence 
which  had  been  adduced. 

Ambivius  rose,  and  defended  himself  with  eloquent 
skill  and  pathos.  He  appealed  to  his  father.  Had  he 
not  always  been  a  faithful  and  obedient  son  ?  Had  he 
not  to  his  own  detriment  constantly  interceded  for  his 
brother  Hilaris?  Had  he  not  tried  to  protect  the 
King  from  a  thousand  perils  ?  Had  he  not  even  watched 


224  ALLEGORIES 

over  his  nightly  slumbers  ?  Who  could  believe  the 
tissue  of  perjuries  now  urged  against  him  ?  Could  he 
not  have  murdered  the  King,  unsuspected,  a  hundred 
times  if  he  had  so  desired  ?  Philip  had  accused  him 
falsely,  because  he  was  jealous  of  Rhoda's  regard  for 
him.  Let  the  King's  wisdom  sweep  away  these  lies, 
and  let  him  take  back  to  his  affection  the  most  faithful 
of  his  sons.  As  for  the  vial,  he  had  not  the  least  wish 
to  deny  that  he  had  sent  the  vial,  but  it  contained  a 
mere  harmless  medicine. 

This  he  said,  believing  that  its  contents  had  been 
destroyed.  The  King  turned  to  Ehoda,  who  was  in  a 
state  of  the  bitterest  indignation  against  Ambivius  for 
his  insinuations  against  her. 

'  When  I  flung  away  the  rest  of  the  poison,'  she  said, 
'  I  reserved  a  little,  meaning  to  destroy  myself.  I  con- 
cealed it  on  my  own  person.  Here  is  the  vial  which 
Ambivius  sent,  and  it  is  not  yet  empty.' 

'  A  malefactor  was  yesterday  doomed  to  death,'  said 
the  King.  '  Let  it  be  tried  on  him  !  ' 

The  wretch  was  led  into  the  court,  and  bidden  to 
swallow  the  potion.  He  did  so,  fell  on  the  floor  in 
convulsions,  and  in  one  minute  was  dead. 

A  hush  of  horror  fell  over  the  assemblage. 

'  Now  what  have  you  to  say,  parricide  and  monster?  ' 
exclaimed  the  King  in  a  voice  of  doom. 

'It  is  the  foul  invention  of  yon  woman,'  said 
Ambivius,  turning  upon  Bhoda  a  look  of  fearful 
hatred. 

'  Nay,  wretch,'  she  said, '  destroyer  of  my  happiness, 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     225 

murderer  of  my  husband,  ruiner  of  my  peace,  you  escape 
not  so  !  Oh,  King,  read  this  letter !  It  is  in  a  secret 
cypher  ;  here  is  the  key  to  the  cypher.' 

Ambivius  saw  that  all  was  over. 

'  It  is  enough,'  he  said  sullenly  ;  '  that  woman  has 
destroyed  me  :  I  am  guilty.' 

It  was  impossible  to  repress  the  roar  of  execration 
which  arose  when  he  had  uttered  these  words.  Sentence 
of  death  was  solemnly  pronounced  upon  him.  When 
it  was  uttered  he  glared  round  him  with  hatred  and 
defiance  on  his  face,  but  he  could  not  see  a  single  pitying 
glance,  unless  it  was  on  the  beautiful  face  of  Prince 
Innocens. 

When  he  left  the  court  King  Doress  the  Magnificent 
was  overpowered  with  all  that  he  had  gone  through. 
He  felt  crushed  by  the  accumulated  horrors  of  his  life. 
He  became  seriously  ill,  and  raved  incessantly.  How 
utterly  had  he  been  ruined  by  the  demons  to  whom  he 
had  listened !  Nothing  seemed  to  calm  him  but  the 
presence  of  Prince  Innocens,  though  in  these  days  the 
boy  seemed  to  have  lost  all  the  natural  sprightliness  of 
his  character  and  was  full  of  sadness,  drooping  like  a 
flower  which  has  been  drenched  by  storm. 

While  the  monarch  was  in  this  state  he  gave  no 
further  order  for  the  execution  of  Ambivius,  and,  indeed, 
he  incessantly  cursed  his  hard  fate  that  it  should  fall 
to  him  to  doom  to  death  those  who  should  have  been 
dearest  to  him,  and  who  had  derived  their  being  from 
himself.  But  in  one  of  his  lucid  intervals,  when  he 
was  sane  indeed,  yet  full  of  wrath  against  the  world, 

q 


226  ALLEGORIES 

he  was  told  that  the  gaoler  of  Ambivius  wished  to 
see  him.  The  man  was  admitted,  and  said  that  his 
prisoner,  hearing  how  ill  the  King  was,  had  offered 
him  enormous  bribes  to  strike  off  his  chains  and  set 
him  free,  threatening  that  the  moment  he  was  free  he 
would  be  king  and  would  slay  his  father,  and  inflict 
condign  vengeance  on  all  his  family. 

Then,  in  a  voice  which  astonished  the  hearers  by 
its  force  and  compass,  Doress  shouted  out : 

'  Then  execute  the  parricide  this  very  hour  ! ' 

Thus  did  the  bad  career  of  Ambivius,  and  all  the 
schemes  into  which  the  fiends  had  lured  him,  and  all 
the  gigantic  hopes  with  which  they  had  tempted  him, 
perish,  consume/  and  come  to  a  fearful  end.  His 
frustrated  ambition  was  hurled  to  the  earth  like  some 
torch  left  there  to  smoulder  and  to  go  out  in  darkness 
and  foul  stench. 

And  as  he  was  being  led  to  execution  in  his  felon's 
dress,  his  hands  manacled  together,  he  could  not  help 
feeling,  amid  thoughts  as  black  as  midnight,  how  far 
different  it  might  have  been  with  him  !  The  laughter 
of  the  mocking  demons  whose  false  lights  had  led  him 
to  ruin  seemed  to  be  ringing  in  his  ears,  Those  rosy 
gleams  and  golden  meteors  which  lured  him  on  the 
path  of  crime  had  but  flickered  over  the  quagmires  of 
hopeless  death.  He  had  been  tempted  to  his  evil  career 
by  the  demons  of  guilty  ambition.  Those  demons  had 
robbed  him  even  of  the  earthly  blessings  and  dignities 
which  would  naturally  have  fallen  to  his  lot,  and  had 
now  whirled  him  down  a  prey  to  grinning  infamy. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     227 

He  had  been  by  birth  a  prince  ;  many  had  courted  and 
flattered  him,  and  professed  to  be  his  friends.  Had 
they  all  turned  from  him  ?  Had  he  changed  into  aver- 
sion and  hatred  the  feelings  of  all?  Was  there  no 
pitying  heart — was  there  no  eye  which  for  him  could  be 
dimmed  with  tears  ?  Oh,  what  a  ghastly  unutterable 
failure  he  felt  himself  to  be,  and  how  hard  and  thorny 
was  the  road  which  he  had  made  for  his  own  miserable 
and  guilty  feet !  To  have  his  head  struck  off  by  the 
common  executioner — to  be  slain  amid  the  curses  of 
those  whom  he  had  sacrificed  for  his  own  vile  and 
selfish  aims — was  that  the  reward  of  such  misdoings  ? 
Oh,  was  there  not  one,  not  one  of  all  the  thousands 
whom  he  had  known,  to  pity  him  ? 

With  these  maddening  thoughts  in  his  heart,  with 
bent  head,  remorseful  yet  impenitent,  the  bad  Prince 
walked  from  his  prison  through  the  gilded  corridors 
which  led  to  the  court  in  which  he  was  to  lay  his  head 
upon  the  block.  But  while  those  words,  '  Not  one,  not 
one  to  pity  me,'  were  sounding  through  his  thoughts 
like  a  knell  of  doom,  a  door  opened  from  a  chamber 
beside  the  corridor,  and  Prince  Innocens  stood  before 
him.  Ambivius  lifted  his  eyes  in  a  glance  of  frightened 
misery,  which  passed  at  once  into  angry  defiance.  Had 
the  boy  come  to  insult  him  ?  to  triumph  over  him  ? 
At  least  he  should  see  no  sign  of  weakness. 

No  !  Prince  Innocens  had  come  for  a  very  different 
purpose.  He  had  never  liked  Ambivius,  he  had  always 
shrunk  from  him  with  a  sort  of  involuntary  shudder. 
With  inward  horror  he  had  seen  through  his  painted 

Q2 


228  ALLEGORIES 

mask  of  hypocrisy,  and  had  fathomed  his  sinister 
designs.  But  now  pity  triumphed  over  indignation 
and  abhorrence — for  Ambivius  was  still  young,  and 
after  a  life  so  guilty  and  so  wasted  Ambivius  was 
doomed  to  die. 

Innocens  gazed  sadly  for  a  moment  on  the  mournful 
procession  ;  then,  almost  timidly,  he  stepped  forward, 
grasped  the  fettered  hand  of  the  Prince,  and  said  in  a 
sad  voice : 

1  My  brother,  I  am  very  very  sorry  for  you.' 

They  were  simple  words,  but  they  smote  on  the 
soul  of  Ambivius  as  the  sunbeam  smites  on  the  snow 
and  causes  it  to  rush  down  in  avalanche.  With  an 
impulse  of  despair  and  affection  which  he  could  not 
control  he  lifted  his  chained  hands,  and  tried  to  press 
the  face  of  Innocens  to  his  own.  They  mingled  their 
tears  together,  and  Ambivius  gasped  forth,  '  Oh,  In- 
nocens, Innocens  !  would  that  I  had  been  like  you ! 
But  I  am  black  of  soul,  and  my  life  has  been  a  very 
leprosy  of  guilt.  Lost !  lost !  No  hope  !  No  hope  !  ' 

His  arms  fell  from  off  his  brother's  shoulder,  and 
the  fetters  gave  a  dismal  clank. 

'  Ambivius,'  said  Innocens,  '  Ely  on  can  hear  the 
cry  of  penitence  even  in  the  flash  of  doom.' 

A  moment  after,  the  sword  swept  down,  and  the 
thread  of  that  evil  life  was  shorn  away. 

A  few  days  afterwards  Doress  also  died,  an  object 
of  pity  even  to  his  worst  foes. 

Terrible  indeed  had  been  the  triumph  of  Ashmod 
and  Hara  and  their  inferior  fiends.  This  king — so 


THE  FORTUNES   OF  A   ROYAL  HOUSE  229 

princely,  so  victorious,  so  magnificent,  so  successful,  so 
madly  envied — this  king,  the  builder  of  glorious  cities, 
whose  name  was  received  with  acclamations  by  many 
peoples — this  king,  who  had  lavished  his  wealth  with 
such  superb  and  ungrudging  munificence — this  king, 
whose  palace  was  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world- 
after  turning  that  palace  into  shambles  which  rang 
with  shrieks ;  after  dooming  to  the  scaffold  his 
two  sons,  and  the  wife  whom  he  had  loved — this 
king,  haunted  by  ghosts,  tormented  by  demons,  so 
shaken  by  madness  as  to  be  a  terror  to  himself,  so 
prostrated  by  disease  as  to  be  an  object  of  pity  to  his 
attendants — this  king,  so  gifted  with  unequalled  endow- 
ments, and  not  devoid  of  strong  natural  affections 
—this  king,  who,  had  he  but  acquired  himself,  and 
subdued  his  evil  passions,  and  obeyed  the  laws  of 
Elyon,  might  have  ranked  amongst  the  greatest  of 
mankind — vanished  into  the  night.  *  Call  me  not 
Doress  the  Magnificent/  he  said  to  Innocens,  his  sole 
surviving  son,  the  only  consoler  of  his  last  dark  hours ; 
'  call  me  Magor  Missabib — terror  on  every  side.'  . 

Oh,  deeper  dole, 

That  so  august  a  spirit,  shrined  so  fair, 
Should  from  the  starry  sessions  of  his  peers 
Decline  to  quench  so  bright  a  brilliancy 
In  Hell's  sick  spume  1     Ah  me  !  the  deeper  dole  1 


The  great  lords  of  the  kingdom  came  to  tell 
Innocens  officially  that  Doress  was  dead,  and  that  he — 
the  beloved  of  all — the  heir  alike  of  the  ancient  and  of 


230  ALLEGORIES 

the  newer  line — was  unquestioned  King  of  Elkuds, 
and  would  be  welcomed  by  all  the  people. 

He  sighed  deeply.  *  Oh,  keep  me  innocent,'  he 
murmured  to  himself  ;  '  make  others  great ! '  <  Advise 
me ! '  he  said  to  his  father's  wisest  and  most  aged 
counsellors. 

'Your  Majesty  cannot  refuse  the  responsibility,' 
said  the  senators.  '  There  is  no  king  possible  but  you.' 

They  left  him,  and  he  cried,  '  O  Hatob,  friend  of 
my  life,  tell  me,  must  this  be  ? ' 

In  a  moment  Hatob  stood  beside  him,  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  head,  and  said,  '  Thou  art  called  to  this  work, 
my  son  ;  accept  it,  and  fear  not.  Elyon,  who  loves 
thee,  will  still  be  with  thee.  Did  not  Imrah  say,  "  I 
will  not  leave  you  orphans,  I  will  come  to  you  "  ?  ' 

When  the  great  lords  came  to  him  an  hour  afterwards 
to  receive  his  instructions,  they  found  him  still  upon  his 
knees. 

So  Innocens  was  master  of  all  the  accumulated 
wealth,  was  king  of  all  the  vast  dominions  !  He  had  not 
sought  the  splendid  burden  ;  he  had  not  dreamed  of  it ; 
he  would  fain  have  avoided  it.  It  came  to  him  in  the 
line  of  duty,  and  he  could  not  shun  the  duty  which  his 
destiny  had  imposed  upon  him.  He  sought  the  most 
upright  and  disinterested  advisers  ;  he  became,  of  all 
the  kings  of  his  day,  the  wisest  and  the  best  beloved. 
And  'in  that  humane  great  monarch's  golden  look/ 
peace  nourished  out  of  the  earth,  and  the  people  re- 
joiced with  a  great  joy. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  ROYAL  HOUSE     231 

Which  won  ?     Ambivius  or  Innocens  ? 

Which  won  ?     The  plotter,  the  self-seeker,  the  wily 


THEY    FOUND    HIM    STILL    UPON    HIS    KNEES 

astute  deceiver,  the  corrupt er  of  purity,  the  servant  of 
the    demons ;    or   the    blameless    and    harmless,    who 


232  ALLEGORIES 

desired  only  to  spend  his  whole  life,  however  meekly, 
in  whatever  deep  obscurity,  obedient  to  the  laws  of 
Heaven  ? 

Which  enjoyed  ?  King  Doress  the  Magnificent,  or 
King  Innocens  the  humble  and  the  undefiled  ? 

Which  enjoyed?  The  sumptuous  magnificent 
sovereign,  who  made  his  palace  a  miracle  of  gorgeous- 
ness,  but  left  his  heart  to  be  a  home  of  the  demons, 
and  the  haunt  of  unclean  things  ;  or  the  youth  who 
had  long  reduced  all  his  prayers  to  this  one  : 

, '  Teach  me  to  do  the  thing  that  pleaseth  Thee,  for 
Thou  art  my  God.  Let  Thy  loving  Spirit  lead  me  into 
the  way  of  righteousness  '  ? 


XII 

E  quel  d'  inferno 

Gridava :  O  tu  dal  ciel,  perche  mi  privi  ? 
Tu  te  ne  porti  di  costui  1'  eterno 
Per  una  lagrimetta  che  '1  mi  toglie. 

DANTE,  Purgat.  v.  104. 

IN  the  dark  barge  ;  over  the  more  than  midnight  sea. 
King  Doress  was  seated  there.  He  wore  no  diadem ; 
he  was  clad  in  no  purple  robes  ;  no  jewels  blazed  upon 
his  hands.  He  was  wholly  undistinguishable  from  the 
humblest  pauper  in  his  realm,  who  sat  not  far  from 
him. 

In  awful  silence,  through  the  darkness  which  might 
be  felt,  making  no  ripple  on  the  black  sea,  the  dark 


THE   FORTUNES  OF   A   ROYAL   HOUSE  233 

barge  glided  on,  and  on  the  horizon  Doress  saw 
scarcely  the  glimmer  of  a  light. 

The  prow  touched  the  shore,  and  through  a  misty 
twilight  two  faintly  shining  figures  came  to  meet  him. 
He  shuddered  ;  he  drew  back ;  he  would  fain  have  fled. 
For  in  one  of  those  white  spectres  he  recognised  the 
features  of  his  wife,  Queen  Leila,  and  in  the  other  of 
his  son,  Prince  Hilaris. 

'  Oh ! '  he  groaned  aloud,  '  and  is  there  to  be  no  peace, 
no  forgiveness  even  here  ?  Have  you  come  to  hale  me 
into  the  nether  flames,  that  I  may  be  beaten  and  crushed 
by  demons  for  ever  ?  ' 

'  Nay,'  said  the  Queen  in  a  low,  sweet,  mournful 
voice.  '  We  were  bidden  to  await  you,  and  to  take  you 
where  we  are.  Fear  not.  We  are  not  worthy  to  be 
admitted  into  Elyon's  presence  yet.  This  is  a  timeless 
world;  but  when  long  aeons  have  passed,  as  men  count 
time,  in  some  great  change  hereafter,  when  our  souls 
have  fully  learnt  even  by  means  of  evil  that  good  is  best ; 
when  they  are  truly  and  perfectly  penitent ;  when 
every  film  is  cleared  from  our  eyes  ;  when  the  stains 
left  upon  our  souls  by  the  Evil  One  are  purged  away — 
then  it  may  be ' 

She  did  not  end  her  sentence. 

'  But  oh  ! '  he  cried,  '  have  you  forgiven  me  all  my 
jealous  passion,  all  my  cruel  tyranny  ?  Have  you, 
whom  I  loved  so  wildly,  and  has  my  poor  son,  forgiven 
the  terrible  end  to  which  I  doomed  you  both  ?  ' 

There  was  a  wan  smile  on  the  lips  of  Hilaris. 
'  Father,'  he  said,  '  we  have  more  than  forgiven  you. 


234  ALLEGORIES 

In  this  land  there  are,  there  can  be  no  resentments. 
And  what  is  a  terrible  end  ?  Death  is  but  death, 
whether  it  come  in  a  sword's  flash,  or  down  the  long 
declivities  of  disease.  Come  with  us  !  We  live  as  yet 
but  in  the  twilight ;  but  often  a  face  of  love  looks  down 
upon  us,  and  there  is  one  soft  bright  star  above  us, 
which  shines  for  evermore.' 


A  little  afterwards,  from  under  the  dark  covering 
which  had  shrouded  him  from  recognition  as  he  lay 
upon  the  barge,  the  miserable  Ambivius  crept  in  horror 
to  the  land.  Two  dark  figures  met  him,  and  I  saw 
him  shrink  with  terror  as  they  grasped  him  by  either 
hand ;  but  what  befell  him  I  know  not,  unless  truth  and 
the  love  of  good  were  made  visible  to  him,  and  accepted 
by  him  in  the  very  stroke  of  doom. 


THE  BASILISK  AND  THE  LEOPAED ; 

OR,  THE  STORY  OF  FLORIAN  AND  ARDEN8 


The  deadliest  snakes  are  those  which,  twined  'mongst  flowers, 

Blend  their  bright  colouring  with  varied  blossoms, 

Their  fierce  eyes  glittering  like  the  spangled  dewdrop  ; 

In  all  so  like  what  Nature  has  most  harmless, 

That  sportive  innocence,  which  dreads  no  danger, 

Is  poisoned  unawares. — SIR  W.  SCOTT. 

0  thou  goddess, 

Thou  divine  nature,  how  thyself  thou  blazon'st 
In  these  two  princely  boys. — SHAKESPEARE,  Cymbeline. 

A  POKPHYRIAN  ruler — the  great  Duke  Altus — tall, 
stately,  and  of  middle  age — was  walking  in  the  beautiful 
gardens  of  his  castle  with  his  two  sons,  Florian  and 
Ardens.  Some  of  the  high-born  Porphyrians,  both 
fathers  and  mothers,  were  singularly  neglectful  of  their 
children.  The  fathers  were  frequently  absorbed  in  the 
urgent  business  of  the  state,  or  in  the  management  of 
their  broad  domains ;  the  mothers  in  the  eager  round 
of  social  pleasure  and  splendid  entertainments.  The 
consequence  was  that  in  many  instances  the  young 
Porphyrians  of  the  higher  classes  '  tumbled  up  '  rather 
than  were  educated.  They  suffered  more  complete 


236  ALLEGOEIES 

moral  and  spiritual  neglect  than  the  majority  of  those 
of  humble  birth,  who,  even  if  they  were  neglected  by 
their  parents,  were  strenuously  taken  in  hand  by  their 
religious  teachers.  The  young  aristocrats  were  in  great 
measure  left  to  the  care  of  servants,  and  when  they 
grew  too  old  for  their  nurseries  were  sent — often 
without  the  smallest  discrimination  of  their  character 
or  fitness — to  large  public  schools.  There  they  were 
educated  in  a  casual  way,  in  traditional  forms  of 
learning  ;  but,  in  the  days  of  which  I  speak,  were  only 
exceptionally  and  accidentally  trained  to 

Make  their  moral  being  their  prime  care. 

The  noble  Altus  had  been  more  careful  in  the  super- 
vision of  his  two  motherless  boys  than  were  many  of 
his  fellow  nobles.  He  had  not  wholly  neglected  them. 
To  the  best  of  his  ability  he  had  used  such  opportu- 
nities as  he  could  find  to  inculcate  into  their  minds  right 
principles,  and  to  set  high  ideals  before  them.  But  his 
opportunities  were  rare  and  his  skill  but  moderate. 
Much  of  the  good  which  he  tried  to  do  was  undone  by 
the  carelessness  or  unfaithfulness  of  others.  Still,  up 
to  this  time,  Florian  and  Ardens  were  innocent  boys — 
white  vellum,  not  as  yet  blurred  and  scrawled  with  evil 
inscriptions ;  virgin  clay,  plastic  to  the  hands  of  wise 
or  wicked  potters.  They  were  sons  of  whom  any 
father  might  have  felt  proud,  and  were  as  yet 

Two  boys  who  thought  there  was  no  more  behind 
Than  such  a  day  to-morrow  as  to-day, 
And  to  be  boy  eternal. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  237 

And  as  they  were  now  fourteen  and  fifteen  years 
old,  Altus  thought  that  he  could  no  longer  delay  the 
dreaded  hour  in  which  he  must  part  from  them,  and 
launch  them,  like  frail  barks  upon  a  stormy  sea,  to  be 
wafted  at  first  by  soft  zephyrs  over  glittering  waves, 
but  fatally  apt  to  be 

Unheeding  of  the  sweeping  whirlwind's  sway, 

Which,  hushed  in  grim  repose,  expects  its  evening  prey. 

Altus  was  purposely  taking  this  walk  with  his  boys 
that  he  might  talk  seriously  to  them  for  the  last  time 
before  they  left  their  home.  But  somehow  he  did  not 
feel  himself  able  to  say  a  tenth  part  of  what  he  would 
have  wished  to  say.  He  felt  separated  from  them  by 
a  chasm  of  years ;  he  felt  it  difficult  to  lay  aside  the 
reserve  of  manner  and  speech  which,  like  a  thin  veil 
of  ice,  seemed  ever  to  be  freezing  afresh  between  him 
and  them.  His  exhortations,  though  they  were  entirely 
sincere,  sounded  even  to  himself  like  cold  and  formal 
platitudes.  The  light  gay  nature  of  Florian  constantly 
interrupted  him  with  trifling  remarks,  whereas  Ardens 
was  far  more  interested  in  hearing  him  talk  about 
current  events  than  about  serious  duties.  Much  as  he 
loved  his  boys,  he  felt  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to 
admonish  and  forewarn  them  as  earnestly  as  he  desired. 
Altus  was  a  man  of  honour  and  integrity,  but  he  was 
hardly  in  any  deep  sense  one  of  the  devoted  servants  of 
Elyon  his  king.  Yet  he  was  so  sincerely  desirous  to 
do  his  best,  that,  before  they  re-entered  their  stately 
home,  he  said,  *  My  boys,  you  are  about  to  leave  me, 


238  ALLEGORIES 

and  it  is  very  necessary  that  you  should  receive  some 
earnest  instruction.  There  is  still  a  week  before  you 
go  to  school.  Our  friend  Alciphron  is  wise  and 
good  ;  he  has  had  much  experience  in  the  training  of 
boys.  I  shall  take  you  both  to  him  on  the  day  before 
you  start,  and  I  trust  that  you  will  listen  to  the  advice 
he  will  give  you.' 

I  have  not  yet  said  what  the  boys  were  like. 
Though  they  were  brothers  they  did  not  at  all  resemble 
each  other.  Ardens,  the  elder,  had  a  noble  face  ;  his 
eyes  were  of  bright  hazel,  his  mouth  resolute,  his 
hair  a  mass  of  contumacious  curls ;  he  resembled  his 
father.  Florian  recalled  the  features  of  his  mother  to 
those  who  had  known  her.  He  was  very  beautiful, 
but  any  one  who  looked  at  him  would  have  seen  that 
his  danger  would  lie  in  weakness  and  effeminacy.  His 
complexion  was  bright,  his  eyes  large  and  liquid,  his 
mouth  irresolute,  his  soft  hair  had  a  gleam  of  gold. 
He  was  so  beautiful  that  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
Porphyrian  artists  who  was  painting  a  picture  of  '  Happy 
Boyhood '  begged  Altus  that  he  might  be  allowed  to 
take  a  likeness  of  Florian  as  the  ideal  of  his  picture. 
Altus  demurred  lest  the  boy  should  be  made  vain ; 
but  the  painter,  who  was  a  man  of  fine  character, 
gave  his  assurance  that  by  no  single  word  should  his 
son  be  led  to  think  of  his  personal  appearance.  This 
promise  he  faithfully  kept,  and  his  influence  over 
Florian  was  excellent.  Yet  some  mischief  was  done ; 
for,  when  the  lovely  picture  was  exhibited,  many 
recognised  the  features  of  the  sitter,  and  it  was  im- 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  239 

possible  to  keep  the  boy  quite  unaware  of  the  whispers 
of  admiration. 

On  the  day  before  the  two  lads  went  to  the  great 
school,  to  be  flung  as  it  were  into  that  burning  fiery 
furnace  of  temptation,  which  would  either  melt  all 
that  was  gold  in  them,  or  refine  it  by  the  purging 
away  of  all  that  was  dross,  Altus  took  them  to 
the  house  of  Alciphron.  The  old  Mage,  as  men  called 
him,  was  a  recluse ;  but  his  secluded  life,  so  far  from 
being  spent  in  selfish  isolation,  was  always  at  the 
service  of  his  fellow  men.  One  of  his  strongest  wishes 
was,  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  to  elevate  and  ennoble 
the  coming  generation.  For  this  reason  his  vast 
experience  and  his  invaluable  gifts  were  at  the  disposal 
alike  of  the  old  and  of  the  young  who  invoked  his  aid. 

Before  introducing  the  boys,  Altus  explained  to 
Alciphron  his  object  in  bringing  them  with  him.  As  a 
father,  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  his  sons,  he  entreated 
the  Mage  to  use  his  potent  spells  in  their  favour,  and 
to  give  them  amulets  which  would  preserve  them  from 
harm ;  since 

In  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  youth 
Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent. 

Alciphron  smiled.  '  You  err,'  he  said,  '  as  many 
err.  Such  powers  as  I  possess  are  not  mine ;  the 
force  of  such  amulets  as  I  can  bestow  is  in  reality  at 
the  disposal  of  any  one  as  much  as  at  my  own.  They 
are  potent,  but  their  validity  depends  solely  on  the  will 
of  those  who  use  them.' 


240  ALLEGORIES 

'  Yet  they  tell  me  you  have  saved  many  from  the 
paths  of  the  destroying  Ashmod,'  said  Altus. 

'  I  have  only  saved  them  as  the  anchor  saves  the 
boat  which  does  not  leave  the  haven ;  as  the  helm 
saves  the  ship  whose  watchful  captain  and  crew  have 
reefed  the  sails,  and  kept  a  keen  look  out  before  the 
bursting  of  the  storm.  Of  myself  I  am  impotent ;  as 
Elyon's  servant  I  can  sometimes  help  his  sons.' 

1  My  boys  await  you,'  said  the  Duke.  '  I  will  leave 
them  with  you  till  the  afternoon.  I  will  not  entreat 
you  to  do  all  you  can  for  them,  because  I  know  that 
your  own  goodness  of  heart  will  lead  you  to  do  so.' 

*  You  judge  me  aright,'  said  Alciphron  ;  *  and  now 
introduce  your  sons  to  me.' 

They  came  in,  and  the  old  man  received  them  with 
the  most  hearty  kindness.  There  was  nothing  cold 
or  stiff — nothing  obtrusively  didactic  or  dictatorial, 
in  his  dealing  with  the  two  lads.  They  saw  at  once 
that  he  loved  them  and  cared  for  them  as  though 
they  had  been  his  children,  and  they  were  at  their  ease 
with  him  and  trusted  him.  The  genial  sense  of  youth 
made  them  rely  without  misgiving  on  his  transparent 
sincerity  of  goodness. 

He  did  not  at  once  plunge  into  serious  topics,  but 
awoke  their  interest  as  he  questioned  them  about  their 
home,  their  friends,  their  games,  their  studies,  the  books 
which  they  loved  best.  They,  in  their  turn,  asked 
him  many  questions  about  the  great  school  to  which 
they  were  going.  He  knew  it  full  well,  with  all  its 
potential  perils  and  all  its  possible  advantages,  for  in 


THE   BASILISK  AND  THE   LEOPARD  241 

earlier   years   he   had   himself    been   a   chief    teacher 
there. 

He  walked  with  them  round  his  garden  and 
showed  them  the  almost  human  affection  for  him  of 
the  animals  which  he  had  tamed.  He  also  told  them 
many  interesting  things  about  the  trees  and  flowers. 
Then  he  strolled  with  them  into  his  ample  picture 
gallery,  and  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  the  gems 
of  art  in  their  own  home,  they  were  delighted  with  many 
of  the  pictures. 

'  What  is  the  story  of  that  picture  ? '  asked 
Florian. 

He  pointed  to  a  lovely  painting  of  a  fair  sleeping 
youth,  on  either  side  of  whom  there  stood  two  female 
figures. 

'  It  is  the  old  story  of  the  choice  of  Hercules  again, 
under  another  form,'  said  Alciphron.  '  You  see  the 
tree  which  seems  to  divide  the  picture  in  half  ? ' 

'  It  is  a  laurel,  the  tree  of  fame,  the  tree  I  love,' 
said  Ardens. 

'  It  is,'  said  Alciphron  with  a  smile.  '  The  youth, 
though  asleep,  is  sleeping  in  his  armour,  and  his  arm 
rests  on  his  crimson  shield.  On  one  side  of  him,  in  her 
robe  of  light  blue  and  her  tunic  of  rose  colour  and  her 
ornaments  of  coral,  stands  Pleasure — but  pleasure 
"  as  regarded  by  a  virginal  imagination — the  foe  not  so 
much  of  purity  as  of  austerity."  She  is  holding  out  to 
him  a  sprig  of  myrtle.  On  the  other  side,  the  maiden 
of  sterner  beauty,  in  her  dark  purple  mantle,  is  Duty, 
She  holds  in  her  left  hand  the  book  of  the  law,  "  This 

B 


242  ALLEGORIES 

do,  and  thou  shalt  live  ;  "  in  her  right  hand  the  sword 
with  which  the  youth  must  fight  in  its  defence.  Some- 
thing in  the  face  of  the  youth  makes  one  feel  sure 
that  he  will  make  the  right  choice.  The  painter  was 
only  a  boy  of  eighteen  when  he  painted  it,  and  the 
figure  is  perhaps  intended  for  himself.  You,  my 
boys,  like  all  who  ever  lived,  will  have  to  make  your 
choice  too  between  duty  and  pleasure.' 

A  few  minutes  later  the  attention  of  both  the  boys 
was  attracted  by  another  picture.  On  one  side  of  it  a 
woman,  beautiful,  but  with  a  hard  and  cruel  face,  is 
gazing  at  a  youth  who  lies  in  the  sottish  drench  of 
satiety,  so  sunk  in  slumber  that  you  might  almost  seem 
to  hear  him  snore.  Young  goatish  satyrs  are  sporting 
with  his  discarded  armour.  One  of  them  is  blowing 
a  sea-shell  in  his  ear. 

'  Why  is  he  blowing  that  shell  ?  '  asked  Florian. 

'  The  sea-shell  is  the  emblem  of  pleasures  which 
are  but  echoes — pleasures  which  can  please  no  more,' 
answered  the  old  man.  '  The  shell  has  been  flung 
upon  the  shore.  There  is  no  purple  in  it  now;  its 
murmurs  tell  of  the  ebbing  tide.' 

'  What  is  it  which  is  coming  out  of  the  tree  ?  '  asked 
Florian. 

'  It  is  not  a  tree,'  said  the  Mage,  '  it  is  only  a  rotten 
trunk,  covered  with  dead  corpse-like  fungi.  And  what 
you  see  issuing  from  it  is-  a  swarm  of  hornets,  by  which 
the  painter  meant  to  give  an  emblem  of  pleasures 
which  have  now  become  stinging  agonies.' 

'  Look  at  that  coarse,  ugly,  vicious  young  satyr,  who 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  243 

has  crept  through  the  youth's  breastplate,'  said  Ardens. 
*  What  an  animal ! ' 

'  Yes,'  said  Alciphron,  '  and  do  you  see  with  what 
infinite  contempt  he  is  thrusting  out  the  tip  of  his  red 
tongue  ?  It  is  an  emblem  of  utter  defeat,  like  the  poet's 
picture  of  the  youth  in  the  bower  of  Acrasia,  lying 
beside  his  idle  armour,  and 

Ne  for  them,  ne  for  honour  cared  he, 
Ne  aught  that  did  for  his  advauncement  tend ; 

But  in  lewd  loves,  and  wastefull  luxurie, 
His  days,  his  goods,  his  bodie  he  did  spend. 
O  horrible  enchantment  that  him  so  did  blend  ! 

But  the  painter's  symbol  is  even  more  vivid  than  the 
poet's.' 

'  Ugh  !  '  said  Ardens,  '  I  don't  like  that  picture  at  all. 
I  like  this  one  much  better.' 

He  pointed  to  the  figure  of  a  youth,  seated  in  a  glow 
of  radiance  which  seemed  to  emanate  from  his  own 
godlike  strength  and  purity,  as,  with  a  curl  of  scorn 
upon  his  lips,  he  watches  the  effect  of  the  arrows  he 
has  sped  against  a  portentous  snake.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  picture,  the  wounded  monster,  in  the  fury 
of  its  deathful  agony,  is  tearing  down  rocks  and  trees 
which  it  has  encircled  in  its  anguished  folds. 

'  One  wonders  that  the  young  god  was  not  afraid  of 
that  terrific  monster,'  said  Florian. 

'  It  looks  terrific,  my  Florian,'  said  the  Mage ;  '  but, 
after  all,  the  python  is  only  a  huge  worm  ;  and  when  the 
arrows  of  light  pierce  it,  it  bursts  asunder  in  the  midst 
from  its  own  putrescence.' 

E    2 


244  ALLEGORIES 

'  But  what  is  that  gleaming  thing  which  is  wrig- 
gling out  of  the  great  pool  of  the  serpent's  gore  ?  ' 
asked  Ardens. 

'  Alas ! '  said  Alciphron,  '  it  is  meant  to  symbolise 
the  truth  that  corruption  never  seems  to  be  quite 
slain.  It  needs  incessant  watch,  for  out  of  the  ser- 
pent's egg  springs  forth  the  cockatrice,  and  its  seed 
is  a  fiery  flying  serpent.  Still  that  picture  is  a  picture 
of  victory,  as  the  other  is  of  defeat.  But  perhaps  you 
are  tired  of  looking  at  pictures  now  ?  ' 

'  No,'  said  Ardens  ;  '  here  is  one  more  which  I  don't 
understand.  What  is  that  old  man  doing  with  his  bell 
and  staff?  And  why  does  he  look  so  earnestly  at  the 
youth  opposite  to  him  ?  ' 

1  That  again,'  said  the  Mage,  '  is  a  picture  of 
secured  victory.  You  see  that  cypress  wood  behind 
the  two  figures  ?  It  is  the  dark  wood  of  human  life. 
The  old  man  is  a  hermit,  and  the  wild  boar  at  his  feet 
is  meant  to  show  that  by  his  bell  and  staff — that 
is,  by  watchfulness  and  effort — he  has  subdued  the 
impulses  of  his  lower  nature.  The  splendid  youth 
opposite  him,  with  his  short  crisp  curls  of  sunny  hair, 
has  conquered  in  a  different  way — by  hard  fighting ; 
he  is  in  full  armour,  and  has  a  cross  on  his  mantle,  and 
is  leaning  on  his  great  cross-hilted  sword.  At  his  feet, 
with  its  slimy  tail,  spiky  wings,  and  savage  teeth, 
lies  the  dragon  he  has  conquered — not  dead,  for  these 
dragons,  even  when  they  seem  dead,  have  sometimes  a 
terrible  way  of  springing  to  life  again — but  though  not 
dead,  yet  helpless.  It  cannot  bite  through  those  iron 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  245 

greaves,  and  if  it  but  stirs,  the  sharp  sword  in  the 
youth's  hand  is  ready  to  stab  it  into  suppression. 
But  tell  me,  Ardens,  do  you  see  nothing  else  in  the 
picture  ? ' 

'  There  is  the  shining  circle  above,  with  Imrah  in 
it,  Elyon's  son.' 

'  Yes  ;  it  is  the  vision  which  inspired,  and  gave  the 
victory,  both  to  the  youth  who  conquered  by  fighting, 
and  the  old  man  who  prevailed  by  solitude  and  prayer. 
Come  and  refresh  yourselves  ;  you  cannot  take  in  the 
meaning  of  any  more  pictures  now.' 

The  old  man  led  them  to  a  pleasant  alcove  in  the 
garden,  where  was  laid  a  delightful  meal  of  fruits,  like 
that  with  which  Adam  and  Eve  regaled  the  affable  Arch- 
angel in  Paradise.  By  this  time  his  keen  insight  into 
character  enabled  him  exactly  to  understand  the 
different  temperaments  of  the  two  lads  ;  and  when  the 
meal  was  ended  he  sent  Ardens  to  wander  once  more 
through  the  picture  gallery,  or  in  the  garden,  while  he 
spoke  to  Florian. 

'  My  boy,'  he  said,  '  let  me  say  to  you  a  few 
serious  words.  You  are  going  into  a  world  of  difficulty 
and  temptation,  of  glamour  and  peril.  You  will  find 
dangerous  enemies  ;  but  your  worst  enemy  by  far — the 
only  enemy  who  can  really  hurt  you — is  yourself ;  for 
without  your  own  consent  no  foe  can  harm  you,  even 
though  it  may  assault  you.  You  must  master,  you 
must  acquire,  you  must  possess  yourself.' 

*  Do  I  not  possess  even  myself  ?  '  said  Florian,  laugh- 
ing a  little  pertly. 


246  ALLEGOEIES 

'  No,  Florian,  you  do  not.  Give  me  your  earnest 
attention.  What  do  you  mean  when  you  say  "I"? 
if  Do  you  mean  your  body,  or  your  mind,  or  your  spirit  ? 
or  all  three  together  ?  ' 

Florian  was  silent. 

1  We  must  conquer  ourselves ;  we  must  gain  our 
own  lives,'  said  the  Mage.  'You  have  a  higher  and  a 
lower  self.  Your  higher  self  means  every  element  in 
you  which  is  good  and  pure  and  true  :  it  is  represented  by 
your  spirit,  by  that  which  enables  you  to  hold  inter- 
course with  all  that  you  feel  to  be  divine,  and  to  be 
above  you.  Your  lower  self  is  represented  by  all  the 
desires' of  the  mind — wrath,  anger,  clamour,  pride,  envy, 
hatred,  malice  ;  and  by  all  the  appetites  of  the  flesh,  when 
they  are  abused  for  purposes  of  gluttony  or  drunkenness, 
or  sloth  or  uncleanness.  There  is  a  fiend  who  takes 
the  form  of  a  fierce  leopard,  and  would  fain  master 
the  passions  of  your  mind  ;  there  is  another  fiend  who 
takes  the  form  of  a  basilisk.  He  will  try  to  deceive 
and  destroy  you  by  the  impulses  of  the  body.  My  boy, 
beware  of  the  basilisk  ! ' 

The  Mage  spoke  in  tones  so  solemn  that  he  awed 
every  tendency  to  frivolity  in  the  lad's  nature. 

'  The  basilisk? '  he  asked ;  '  what  is  the  basilisk  like  ?  ' 

'When  first  you  see  it,'  answered  the  old  man,  'it 
will  be  like  a  crowned  serpent  with  scales  of  green  and 
gold.  It  has  deadly  fascination  in  its  glance.  If  once 
you  allow  that  glance  to  pervade  your  imagination,  and 
paralyse  your  will,  it  will  go  ill  with  you.  0  Florian  ! 
beware  of  the  basilisk !  When  you  see  it,  fly  from 


THE   BASILISK   AND  THE   LEOPARD 


247 


it  ;  and  if  you  cannot  fly  from  it,  trample  on  it.  Never 
tamper  with  it ;  never  suffer  yourself  to  fall  under  its 
fatal  spell.' 


ALCIPHEON   AND    FLOKIAN 


Morian  caught  the  old  man's  hand.  .  'Oh,  sir/  he 
said,  '  this  is  very  terrible.  Can  you  give  me  nothing — 
no  amulet — to  protect  me  from  this  basilisk  and  its 
dreadful  glance  ? ' 


248  ALLEGORIES 

'  I  can,'  said  the  Mage  ;  '  but  the  force  of  amulets 
depends  solely  on  the  user.  They  lose  all  efficacy 
unless  he  who  possesses  them  determines,  at  all  cost 
of  derision  or  self-denial,  to  keep  and  use  them. 
And  this  he  can  only  do  if  he  seeks  the  help  of  his 
unseen  Father.' 

'  I  will,'  said  Florian ;  '  oh,  I  will  keep  and  use  my 
amulet ! ' 

1 1  trust  that  you  will  at  least  try,'  said  the  Mage. 
1  See,  then,  I  give  you  here  a  girdle  of  blue  embroi- 
dered with  gold ;  gird  it  round  your  waist  under  your 
robe.  If  you  would  be  safe,  it  must  not  be  unloosed. 
Next,  I  give  you  this  magic  light  enclosed  in  a  crystal 
gem ;  wear  it  also  under  your  robe.  Its  gleam  will 
flash  out  on  any  source  of  danger;  but  it  must  be 
replenished,  or  it  will  die  away  and  leave  you  in  the 
dark  without  a  friend.  Lastly,  I  give  you  this  little 
bell ;  whenever  you  feel  weak  and  afraid,  whenever 
the  lamp  shows  you  that  peril  is  near,  ring  the  bell 
and  succour  will  be  sent  to  you,  without  which  you 
would  be  weak  and  helpless.' 

With  a  deeper  awe  than  he  had  ever  felt  before, 
Florian  took  them.  '  Oh,  my  father,  bless  me  ! '  he  said, 
looking  up  into  the  old  man's  eyes. 

Very  tenderly  the  Mage  laid  his  hand  on  the  boy's 
head  and  blessed  him.  'Yes,'  he  said,  'my  son,  I 
bless  you ;  but  the  blessing  from  without  depends  on 
the  heart  within ; '  and,  as  he  spoke,  there  was  a 
tremor  in  the  old  man's  voice. 

Then  he  summoned  Ardens.     But  he  had  seen  at  a 


THE   BASILISK  AND   THE   LEOPARD  249 

glance  that  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  this  elder 
boy  would  be  quite  different  from  those  of  the  younger. 
He  warned  him  indeed  against  the  basilisk,  but  less 
solemnly  than  he  had  warned  Florian.  For  he  saw  in 
Ardens  an,  honest  haughtiness,  and  natural  reserved- 
ness  of  disposition,  which  he  knew  would  rob  the 
basilisk  of  nine-tenths  of  its  power.  It  was  the  terror 
of  the  leopard's  leap  which  he  feared  for  Ardens,  and 
to  protect  him  he  gave  him  a  sword,  to  be  secretly 
girded  upon  his  thigh,  of  which  he  was  ever  to  grasp 
the  cross  hilt,  and  draw  from  its  scabbard  when  from 
the  thicket  he  heard  the  leopard's  snarl,  or  saw  the 
glare  of  his  fierce  eyes. 

But  as  he  parted  from  the  boys  on  the  return  of 
their  father,  he  felt  with  a  sigh  that  if  Florian  had 
listened  to  him  with  too  weak  an  alarm,  Ardens  had 
perhaps  received  his  warning  with  too  bold  a  confidence 
in  self. 


II 

Beato 

Chi  colla  fresca  gioventu  nel  viso 
Move  da  prode  ad  incontrar  la  vita. — PBATI. 

A  FEW  days  afterwards,  Florian  and  Ardens  left  the 
stately  castle  of  their  father,  and  went  to  face  the 
circumstances  which  so  often  constitute  a  crisis  in  the 
life-histories  of  men,  by  entering  the  great  Porphyrian 
place  of  education  known  as  '  The  Gate  School.' 

The    brothers   were   widely  unlike   each   other   in 


250  ALLEGORIES 

temperament.  Their  father  had  consigned  them  to 
the  care  of  different  tutors,  and  they  saw  but  little  of 
each  other  at  school,  and  exercised  no  direct  influence 
on  one  another's  moral  or  intellectual  development. 
This  was  all  the  more  the  case  because  they  were 
not  in  the  same  house.  The  houses  were  named  from 
different  colours ;  Ardens  was  in  the  Red  House,  and 
Florian  in  the  Blue. 

The  gay  temperament  and  shallow  versatility  of 
Florian  made  him  speedily  forget  the  kind  and  solemn 
warnings  of  the  Mage.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing 
to  alarm,  everything  to  attract  him,  in  his  school 
life.  His  high  birth,  his  beauty,  his  sprightliness,  his 
undisguised  pleasure  in  being  courted  and  admired, 
soon  made  him  a  general  favourite,  but  chiefly  among 
the  less  manly  and  serious  boys.  It  was  not  often  that 
a  new  comer  so  rapidly  sprang  into  popularity,  or 
received  such  open  adulation.  Well  taught  at  home, 
he  found  no  difficulty  in  the  studies  of  the  place,  and 
pleased  the  masters  by  his  graceful  and  courteous 
manners.  Active  and  vigorous,  he  held  his  own  in  the 
games  without  giving  himself  the  trouble  of  any  severe 
training.  He  was  frankly  delighted  with  the  school, 
with  his  companions,  and  with  all  his  surroundings. 

He  soon  almost  forgot  that  he  had  so  much  as 
heard  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  the  basilisk,  or 
that  it  could  be  a  source  of  danger  to  him.  And  the 
fiend  was  far  too  skilled  a  manager  to  shock  him  or  to 
terrify  him  too  soon.  His  object  was  to  lull  the  boy 
into  fancied  security ;  to  lead  him  thus  to  lay  aside  all 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPABD  251 

safeguards,  and  so  to  approach  him  when  he  was 
undefended  and  unprepared. 

Florian  was  not  indeed  left  wholly  without  warning. 
The  dangers  which  arose  from  the  insidious  triumphs 
of  the  basilisk  were  so  great  that,  at  every  fitting  oppor- 
tunity, and  in  every  wise  way,  the  best  Porphyrian 
teachers  endeavoured  to  turn  the  thoughts  of  their 
pupils  so  seriously  to  King  Elyon,  and  their  duties 
towards  him  and  towards  their  own  lives,  that  no  boy 
could  ever  fall  a  wholly  unwitting  victim  to  Ashmod's 
snares.  Even  among  the  boys  themselves  the  existence 
of  this  gliding  enemy  was  a  subject  of  allusion,  often 
jesting,  but  sometimes  serious.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever,' Florian,  while  he  was  becoming  oblivious  of,  or 
indifferent  to,  the  existence  of  any  peril,  was  secretly 
inclined  to  take  the  view  of  those  who  professed  to  be 
sceptical  as  to  the  existence  of  the  crowned  serpent, 
or  thought  that  its  supposed  deadliness  was  exaggerated, 
if  not  wholly  imaginary. 

And  thus  it  was  that  the  boy  laid  aside  one  by 
one  the  amulets  which  the  Mage  had  given  him. 
Little  by  little  he  loosened  the  broidered  girdle, 
which  at  first  he  had  worn  tightly  fastened  round 
his  loins.  He  soon  came  to  regard  it  as  needless, 
and  then  it  became  positively  irksome.  After  a  time 
he  flung  it  aside  altogether ;  chiefly  because  the  friend 
who  had  taken  most  pains  to  ingratiate  himself  into  his 
confidence  had  one  day  caught  sight  of  it,  pointed  to 
it  with  a  contemptuous  gesture,  and  gone  away  with  a 
hearty  laugh. 


252  ALLEGORIES 

This  boy's  name  was  Trypho,  and  Florian  could  not 
have  chosen  a  less  desirable  friend.  The  same  was  true 
—though  in  a  much  lower  degree — of  another  comrade 
to  whom  Florian  felt  strangely  drawn.  His  name 
was  Facilis.  He  was  very  unlike  Trypho.  Trypho  liked 
to  lord  it  over  everybody.  He  only  flattered  that  he 
might  be  sooner  able  to  patronise  and  influence — cuncta 
serviliter  pro  imperio.  Not  so  Facilis.  He  was  of  a 
very  yielding  disposition.  There  was  something  almost 
pathetic  in  the  dependence  which  he  placed  on  natures 
stronger  than  his  own.  Florian  from  the  first  seemed 
to  have  won  his  whole  heart.  There  was  nothing  he 
would  not  do  for  him,  and  Florian  could  not  help 
feeling  attracted  by  one  who  really  seemed  to  love  him. 
And  Facilis,  had  he  been  left  alone,  would  have  been 
the  last  person  to  do  Florian  any  harm,  if  it  were  only 
because  he  so  sincerely  clung  to  him.  But  his  mingled 
attractiveness  and  lack  of  firmness  had  enabled  Trypho 
to  acquire  a  sort  of  mesmeric  power  over  Facilis. 
When  he  had  first  come  as  a  new  boy  to  the  school,  he 
had  formed  a  false  and  admiring  estimate  of  Trypho, 
which  the  latter  had  misused  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 
him  the  unresisting  henchman  of  all  his  purposes, 
though  Facilis  soon  ceased  really  to  care  for  him. 
Facilis  was  deeply  to  be  pitied.  He  went  astray  only 
from  weak  complaisance.  He  had  never  learned  to  say 
'  no  '  to  a  bad  companion.  Even  those  who  blamed  him 
most  severely  yet  often  spoke  of  him  as  '  poor  Facilis.' 

The  next  amulet  which  Florian  gradually  rendered 
useless  was  the  little  crystal  gem.  Several  times  its 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAED  253 

light  had  gleamed  and  almost  blazed  out,  as  the  boy 
gave  himself  up  more  and  more  to  the  unwholesome 
influence  of  Trypho.  But  as  Florian  did  not  choose  to 
heed  the  warning,  and  never  took  the  least  trouble  to 
replenish  the  flame,  its  light  sank  to  a  tiny  spark,  and, 
after  a  few  months,  almost  ceased  to  shine  at  all. 

He  still  kept  the  little  silver  bell ;  but  as  he  scarcely 
ever  thought  of  using  it,  he  often  forgot  to  take  it  with 
him.  Meanwhile  the  basilisk — eyeing  him  unseen,  ever 
creeping  nearer  and  nearer  to  him  through  the  fallen 
leaves,  and  allowing  him  now  and  then  to  get  a  passing 
indistinct  glimpse  of  its  iridescence — felt  sure  that,  when 
he  chose  to  flash  full  into  sight,  the  boy  would  neither 
fly  nor  avert  his  glance,  but  would  receive  into  his  soul 
the  deadly  arrow  of  bewitchment  which  should  empoison 
all  his  blood. 


Ill 

But  you — ye  are  changed  since  I  saw  you  last. 

MBS.  HEMANS. 

AND  so  the  first  term  at  school  passed  away,  and  the 
time  came  when  the  boys  were  to  go  home  for  a  holiday. 
A  superficial  observer  would  have  said  that  Florian  was 
much  the  same  boy  as  he  had  been  when  he  left  his 
father's  house.  No  one  knew  better  than  the  basilisk 
that  this  was  riot  the  case ;  nay,  that  everything  was 
now  prepared  for  his  future  conquest.  He  had  already 
surrounded  his  victim  with  an  atmosphere  which  was 


254  ALLEGORIES 

intoxicating  and  subtly  poisonous ;  he  had  put  him 
completely  off  his  guard,  he  had  awakened  in  his  mind 
the  germs  of  a  perilous  indifference  to  all  which  was 
best. 

The  clumsier  and  more  ignorant  fiends  in  the 
court  of  Ashmod — where  all  are  deeply  interested  in 
the  common  task  of  destroying  the  Porphyrians  by 
alienating  them  from  their  true  king — sneered  at 
the  basilisk  for  his  supposed  un success.  But  the 
demon  only  looked  down  on  them  with  a  superior 
smile,  and  answered  them  with  the  one  word,  '  Wait !  ' 

Altus  saw  no  difference  in  his  beloved  boy,  except 
that  he  seemed  more  self-confident,  more  at  home  in 
society,  more  familiar  with  the  world.  He  had  lost 
none  of  his  boyish  beauty ;  the  light  was  still  in  his 
eyes,  and  the  bloom  upon  his  cheek.  He  had  brought 
back  with  him  from  school  a  fair  report,  except  that 
his  tutor  had  dropped  a  hint  that  he  was  a  little  pro- 
miscuous in  his  friendships,  and  should  be  careful  not 
to  ally  himself  too  closely  with  boys  whose  influence 
on  his  moral  life  might  not  be  good. 

Altus  read  to  his  two  sons  the  characters  which 
they  had  received,  and  he  questioned  Florian  about 
this  warning. 

'  Oh,'  said  Florian,  with  easy  nonchalance,  '  I'm 
all  right.  You  would  not  have  me  give  the  cold 
shoulder  to  other  boys  when  they  are  kind  and  civil  to 
me  ?  I  don't  know  what  my  tutor  means  by  any  one 
not  influencing  me  for  good.  I  can  hold  my  own.' 

*  Is  it  all  right,  Ardens  ?  '  said  his  father.     '  You  are 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  255 

the  elder  brother,  and  should  try  to  set  Florian  a  good 
example.' 

'You  had  better  not  ask  me,  father,'  said  Ardens. 
'  Florian  takes  his  own  line.' 

'  So  do  you,  Ardens,'  retorted  the  younger  brother 
angrily. 

'  I  am  on  my  guard  a  little,'  said  Ardens.  '  Never- 
theless, if  you  would  ever  listen  to  me,  which  you  never 
condescend  to  do,  I  should  say  to  you  exactly  what  your 
tutor  says.' 

'I  don't  understand  you,'  answered  Florian.  'You 
choose  your  friends  :  I  shall  choose  mine.' 

'  At  any  rate,'  cried  Ardens,  '  I  don't  go  about 
with '  He  stopped  short. 

'Well?     With— whom?' 

'  With  Facilis,  for  instance.' 

'  Facilis  !  poor  Facilis  is  quite  delightful.  He  would 
do  anything  for  me.  It  is  a  shame  of  you  to  abuse  him. 
Everyone  likes  Facilis.' 

'  Well,  then,  with  fellows  like  Trypho,'  said  Ardens 
in  an  accent  of  scorn. 

'  Fellows  like  Trypho  !  '  answered  Florian,  blushing 
hotly.  '  Trypho  is  a  good-looking  and  clever  boy,  high 
in  the  school,  and  he  has  always  been  kind  to  me.  He's 
as  good  anyhow  as  your  bosom  friend  Acer.' 

'  The  idea  of  comparing  them  ! '  answered  Ardens, 
who  was  rapidly  losing  his  temper.  '  Acer  is  as  manly 
as  Trypho  is Again  Ardens  stopped  short. 

'  Hush  !  '  said  the  Duke.  '  I  will  not  allow  you  boys 
to  quarrel  in  my  presence.  But,  Florian,  if  your  friend 


256  ALLEGORIES 

Trypho  is  not  a  desirable  associate  for  you,  I  wish  you 
would  drop  his  acquaintance.' 

'  Ardens  has  no  right  to  hint  that  he  is  not, 
father,'  said  Florian.  '  Let  him  mind  his  own  business.' 

When  they  left  their  father's  library,  Florian — all 
the  more  indignant  because  his  sore  conscience  told 
him  that  there  was  truth  in  what  his  brother  had  said — 
could  hardly  restrain  his  anger,  though  he  was  always 
afraid  of  the  force  and  impetuosity  of  Ardens.  But  the 
flattery  which  he  had  received  at  school  made  him  less 
tolerant  of  any  disdain  or  opposition,  and  he  could  not 
help  bursting  out  with  the  remark : 

'  You  were  a  sneak  to  abuse  my  friends  like  that.' 

*  A  sneak  !  '  said  Ardens,  flaming  out  at  once,  for  to 
him  the  taunt  was  peculiarly  hateful.     '  Say  that  again 
if  you  dare  !  ' 

'  It  was  no  business  of  yours  to  abuse  Facilis  and 
Trypho,'  said  Florian,  a  little  cowed. 

'  I  didn't  want  to  say  much  against  Facilis.  I 
don't  think  there's  much  harm  in  him.  I  know  you 
have  asked  father  to  let  him  stay  here  with  us,  and  I 
don't  mind  if  he  does.  I  am  sorry  I  mentioned  him.' 

*  Well,  you  shamefully  maligned  Trypho,  anyhow.' 

'  I  didn't  malign  him.  I  refrained  from  saying  what 
he  was.  I  despise  him,  and  never  conceal  it.' 

'  I  don't  care  for  your  opinion,'  said  Florian.  'It's 
all  your  conceit.  You  think  yourself  a  most  magnifi- 
cent swell,  and  are  always  ready  to  sneer  at  every  one's 
faults  except  your  own.  But  for  all  that  you  are 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  257 

'  Say  it  if  you  dare  !  ' 

Florian  should  have  taken  warning,  for  his  brother's 
eyes  were  gleaming  with  anger  ;  but  his  own  vanity 
had  been  seriously  ruffled,  and  he  said : 

'  Well,  if  you  dare  me — you  are  a  sneak  !  ' 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  word  when  a  strong 
blow  from  his  brother's  fist  knocked  him  to  the  ground. 

He  rose  pale  and  trembling ;  and  Ardens,  in- 
stantly repenting,  tried  to  grasp  his  hand,  and  said, 
'Forgive  me,  Florian,  I  was  wrong.  That  wild  beast 
against  whom  the  Mage  warned  me  sprang  on  me 
with  a  tiger's  leap,  and  I  was  not  on  my  guard.  For- 
give me,  my  brother  !  ' 

But  Florian  pushed  aside  his  outstretched  hand. 
'  I  hate  you,  Ardens,'  he  said  ;  '  I  will  never  forgive  you 
— never ! ' 

Florian  went  to  his  room  to  nurse  his  anger.  '  I 
wish  I  was  back  at  school,'  he  thought.  '  There  every 
one  made  much  of  me.  Here  this  brute  Ardens  hits 
me  on  the  face  and  knocks  me  down.' 

At  this  moment  his  father  entered  the  room. 

*  I  overheard  you  boys  quarrelling,'  he  said.  '  What 
is  that  bruise  on  your  cheek  ?  ' 

Florian  looked  in  a  glass,  and  saw  that  the  blow,  of 
which  he  still  felt  the  smart,  had  indeed  left  a  dark 
bruise,  '  Ardens  struck  me,'  he  said. 

'  Ardens  !  '  called  his  father — for  he  saw  the  elder 
boy  seated  sadly  under  a  tree  on  the  lawn — '  come  here  ! ' 

'  Look,  Ardens,'  said  Altus ;  '  is  that  bruise  on  your 
brother's  cheek  your  handiwork?  ' 

s 


258  ALLEGORIES 

'  It  is,  sir,'  answered  the  boy  sadly.  '  I  grieve  to 
say  that  I  utterly  lost  my  temper.  I  am  very  sorry,  I 
asked  Florian  to  forgive  me,  but  he  won't.' 

Florian  stood  there  sullen  and  irresponsive,  and  the 
Duke  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

'Ardens,'  he  said,  'I  am  ashamed  of  you,  and 
to  punish  you  I  shall  not  take  you  hunting  with  me  for 
a  week.  But  your  frank  confession  and  apology  have 
partly  atoned  for  your  misconduct.  Florian,  did  you 
do  nothing  to  provoke  him  ?  ' 

Florian  pouted  in  obstinate  silence. 

4  Answer  me,'  said  his  father. 

'  He  began  it,'  was  the  ungracious  reply. 

'He  has  confessed  his  fault,  and  is  sorry  for  it. 
Forgive  your  brother.' 

Florian  was  still  silent. 

'  Did  you  hear  me  ?  ' 

'  I  forgive  him,'  answered  the  boy  sullenly,  '  since 
you  order  me,'  and  he  coldly  touched  his  brother's 
hand. 

Altus  was  grieved.  There  came  to  his  mind  the 
lines  of  a  poet ; 

Forgive  ?     How  many  will  say  forgive,  and  find 
A  sort  of  absolution  in  the  sound 
To  hate  a  little  longer. 

'  I  am  afraid,'  he  said, '  that  school  has  had  no  good 
influence  on  either  of  you.  If  this  kind  of  thing  is  to 
go  on,  I  shall  seriously  think  of  removing  you.  You 
would  not  have  behaved  like  this  to  each  other  six 
months  ago.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  259 

'  Oh,  don't  remove  us,  father  !  '  said  both  boys  at 
once. 

'  It  would  look  as  if  we  had  been  expelled  for  some- 
thing disgraceful,'  said  Ardens ;  'we  should  never  get 
over  it.' 

'  I  will  not  quarrel  with  Ardens  again,'  said  Florian 
eagerly.  'Do  let  us  go  back.' 

'  Father,'  added  Ardens,  '  a  good  deal  of  the  quarrel 
was  my  fault.  If  you  will  trust  me,  I  will  try  not  to 
let  it  happen  again.  Perhaps  I  was  a  little  unjust  to 
Trypho  in  my  prejudice  against  him,  and  I  certainly 
was  unjust  to  Facilis.  Father,  Florian  wants  you  to 
let  Facilis  come  and  stay  with  us.  Will  you  ?  ' 

*  Ardens,'  said  the  Duke,  '  if  you  did  wrong,  you  have 
had  the  courage  to  confess  it.  Florian  will,  I  am  sure, 
feel  that  you  have  been  generous  in  your  expression  of 
regret.  Yes,  you  may  invite  Facilis  here  if  you  wish.' 

So  Facilis  came  and  charmed  them  all,  even  Ardens 
and  the  Duke,  with  his  sweetness  of  character  and  the 
evident  depth  of  his  love  for  Florian.  In  healthy 
surroundings  Facilis  was  all  that  is  good,  and  the 
generous  manliness  of  Ardens  exercised  on  him  a  most 
wholesome  influence. 

One  day  the  two  brothers  took  him  all  over  the 
castle,  and  showed  him  its  treasures. 

'  What  happy  and  lucky  fellows  you  two  are  ! '  he 
said  with  a  sigh.  '  You  are  rich,  you  are  of  high  birth, 
you  are  clever.  I  am  a  fatherless  boy,  with  no  gifts 
and  no  prospects.' 

'You  are  yourself,  Facilis,'  said  the  Duke,  who  had 

s  2 


260  ALLEGORIES 

overheard  the  remark.  '  That  is  gift  enough  ;  and,  at 
any  rate,  my  boy,  you  have  the  gift  of  making  yourself 
beloved  by  those  who  know  you.  That  is  a  very 
precious  endowment.' 

'  0  sir,  you  are  far  too  kind  to  me,'  said  Facilis  ; 
1  and  so  are  your  sons.' 


IV 

Yea,  thou  heardest  not ;  yea,  thou  knewest  not ;  yea,  thine  ear  was 
not  opened. — Isaiah  xlviii.  8. 

No  other  incident  of  importance  occurred  during 
the  holidays,  but  towards  their  close  the  Duke  said, 
'  My  boys,  I  shall  pay  a  visit  to-morrow  to  my  friend 
Alciphron  ;  and  I  want  you  to  come  with  me.' 

'  I  should  like  it  very  much,'  said  Ardens.  '  He  is  a 
dear  old  man,  and  his  gallery  is  full  of  the  most 
delightful  pictures.' 

Florian  blushed  a  little,  and  pouted,  and  said 
nothing. 

'  Don't  you  wish  to  see  Alciphron  again  ? '  asked 
Altus. 

'  I  don't  mind,'  said  Florian  ;  '  but  I  hope ' 

1  Finish  your  sentence.' 

*  Well,  he  is  rather  fond  of  sermonising,  is  he  not  ? ' 

*  Is  every  kind  word  of  warning  and  encouragement 
to  be  called  sermonising,  Florian  ?     If  you  think  so  you 
may  hear  sermons  of  a  very  different  kind  some  day— 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  261 

spoken  by  voices  which  you  cannot  silence — voices  full 
of  thunder,  rolling  over  your  life  and  soul.' 

Florian  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  his  pertness,  and 
said  that  he  should  like  to  go. 

Accordingly  they  went  to  the  house  of  Alciphron, 
who  welcomed  them  heartily.  Yet  even  as  he  grasped 
their  hands,  his  clear  and  kindly  gaze  seemed  to  read 
— and  in  a  measure  did  read — their  inmost  hearts. 
Ardens  met  his  look  with  perfect  frankness.  Not  so 
Florian.  He  looked  up  at  the  Mage  boldly,  half 
defiantly,  but  almost  instantly  dropped  his  eyes. 
Alciphron  saw  at  a  glance  that,  though  he  had  not 
indeed  been  finally  bewitched  by  the  basilisk,  yet  some- 
thing of  the  fiend's  penetrating  venom  had  been  diffused 
through  the  air  which  the  boy  had  breathed.  He  saw 
too  that  Florian  would  not  open  his  heart  to  him  ;  that 
he  desired  no  advice,  no  help ;  that  he  was  determined 
to  walk  in  his  own  way.  Hence  the  old  man,  while 
treating  him  with  conspicuous  kindness,  did  not  even 
attempt  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  his  soul,  or  to  give 
him  advice,  which  would  have  been  resented,  and  would 
only  have  done  harm. 

Yet  an  indirect  opportunity  of  wakening  serious 
thoughts  occurred  spontaneously  when  the  elder  boy 
eagerly  asked  him  to  come  with  them  into  his  gallery 
and  explain  some  more  paintings  to  them. 

The  first  picture  about  which  Ardens  asked  was  one 
in  which  a  gaunt  yet  splendid  figure  of  an  old  man  lay, 
apparently  dying,  beside  a  sacrifice  which  he  has 
offered. 


262  ALLEGORIES 

'  That,'  said  the  Mage,  '  is  an  imaginary  incident  in 
the  lives  of  those  two  brothers  of  whom  you  read  at  the 
beginning  of  Elyon's  book.  In  a  fit  of  mad,  uncon- 
trollable passion,  caused  by  jealousy,  the  elder  smote 
and  killed  the  younger.  Thenceforth  he  went  through 
life  with  a  mark  upon  his  forehead,  and  he  lay  under 
the  curse  of  his  own  conscience.  But  that  avenging 
angel  accompanied  the  wanderer,  and  with  still  small 
voice  at  last  broke  down  his  obduracy.  And  when 
he  was  old — delivered,  or  half  delivered,  from  his  long 
despair — he  made  his  way  to  the  deserted  altar  by 
which  he  had  slain  his  brother,  and  offered  a  sacrifice, 
and  cried  for  pardon  and  died  leaning  upon  the  altar. 
The  painter  means  to  indicate  that  his  cry  was  heard ; 
for  now  the  angel  of  conscience  is  pleading  for  him, 
and  a  gleam  of  heaven's  own  light  is  visible  far  off 
through  the  midnight  clouds.' 

Ardens  listened  intently.  He  thought  of  what  had 
occurred  so  recently,  when,  in  a  blaze  of  anger,  he  had 
struck  Florian  and  left  a  mark  which  was  still  faintly 
visible  upon  his  cheek.  He  said  nothing,  but  a  shade 
of  sorrow  passed  over  his  face. 

Not  far  from  this  was  a  picture  in  which  a  mermaid 
is  dragging  a  beautiful  but  lost  and  dying  youth  under 
the  cold  green  waters.  On  her  face  is  the  intense 
malignity  of  cruel  triumph  and  cruel  scorn  ;  on  his  the 
agony  of  frustration  and  of  death.  Something  about  it 
struck  the  imagination  of  Florian,  and  he  asked  what 
it  was  intended  to  mean. 

'  Read  the  motto,'  said  the  Mage. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  263 

Florian  read, 

Habes  quod  tota  mente  petisti 
Infelix  1 

'  You  know  what  that  means?'  said  the  old  man. 
'  You  see  it  is  an  illustration  on  what  a  great  writer 
has  said,  that  unlawful  pleasure  is  delusive  and 
envenomed  pleasure.  Its  hollowness  disappoints  at 
the  time  ;  its  poison  cruelly  tortures  afterwards  ;  its 
effects  deprave  for  ever.' 

'  I  should  fancy,'  said  Ardens,  '  that  the  painter 
must  have  been  thinking  of  the  poem  I  had  to  learn 
at  school,  called  "  The  Fisherboy  "  : 

Sie  sprach  zu  ihrn,  sie  sang  zu  ihm  ; 

Da  war's  uni  ihn  gescheh'n  : 
Halb  zog  sie  ihn,  halb  sank  er  hin 

Und  ward  nicht  mehr  geseh'n.' 

'You  are  right,  Ardens,'  said   the  Mage    with   an 

, approving  smile.     '  The  motto  of  the  picture  might  be, 

"  Who  bewitched  you  ?  "    The  painter  meant  to  indicate 

the  curse  of  wrong-doing  in  the  very  moment  of  its 

gratification.' 

Florian  said  nothing,  but  Alciphron  detected  a 
slight  look  of  supercilious  incredulity  about  his  lips. 
Yet  apparently  he  wanted  to  change  the  subject,  for, 
looking  at  another  painting,  he  said : 

'  What  a  very  curious  picture  this  is  ! ' 

The  picture  to  which  he  pointed  was  one  of  remark- 
able beauty.  The  central  incident  of  it  represented  a 
child  on  the  platform  of  a  loggia  before  a  .seated  king. 


264  ALLEGORIES 

Between  him  and  the  king  is  a  quaint  monster,  at  once 
hideous,  terrific,  and  contemptible.  It  is  winged,  and 
has  strong  fierce  talons,  but  it  has  ears  like  that  of  an 
ass,  strong  bristles,  and  a  head  something  between  that 
of  a  cat  and  a  donkey.  The  mouth  is  open  to  emit  a 
savage  roar  ;  the  sharp  teeth  are  revealed  ;  and  one  paw 
is  uplifted.  Its  roar  is  directed  against  the  little  boy 
at  whom  it  glares ;  but  he  stands  perfectly  calm, 
perfectly  unmoved,  in  his  rude  and  simple  dress,  with 
the  long  fair  hair  flowing  over  his  neck  and  shoulders. 
He  is  advancing  towards  the  odious  monster,  but  the 
aureole  of  saintly  innocence  is  round  his  brow ;  his 
eyes  are  uplifted,  his  hands  are  clasped  in  prayer. 

'  That,'  said  Alciphron,  '  represents  the  legend  of 
St.  Tryphonius,  who  subdued  by  prayer  and  inno- 
cence the  monster  which  could  not  be  subdued  by  the 
warrior's  spear.' 

1  But  what  is  the  monster  meant  for  ?  '  asked  Ardens. 

'  It  is  meant  for  a  basilisk,  whom,  in  the  legend, 
the  young  boy  Tryphonius  overcame,'  said  Alciphron, 
purposely  avoiding  all  indication  that  he  had  seen  the 
blush  which  now  covered  with  crimson  the  face  and 
neck  of  his  younger  hearer. 

'  I  don't  know  much  about  the  basilisk,'  said  Ardens, 
'  but  I  thought  it  always  appeared  as  a  green,  glittering 
serpent  with  a  crown  on  its  head — a  sort  of  king  serpent.' 

*  You  are  right,'  answered  the  Mage ;  '  but  the  painter 
followed  his  own  bent,  and  he  wished  to  represent  alle- 
gorically  at  once  the  detestable  character  of  ihe  creature, 
and  its  essential  impotence.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  265 

'  I  like  this  picture  better,'  said  Florian  hastily,  as 
though  to  escape  the  subject. 

'  So  do  I,'  said  Ardens.  '  You  need  not  explain  that, 
sir.  It  is  St.  George  and  the  Dragon.  What  a  superb 
rider,  and  what  a  strong  horse,  and  what  a  rush  and 
fury  in  the  charge !  I  love  the  noble  face  of  the 
knight,'  said  Ardens  enthusiastically.  'Look  at  that 
splendid  torrent  of  rippling  golden  hair  !  ' 

'  But  his  lance  has  splintered  between  the  dragon's 
jaws,'  said  Florian. 

'  True,'  said  the  Mage  ;  '  yet  his  sword  is  by  his  side 
for  further  combat  if  necessary.' 

'  I  wish  the  painter  had  not  spoiled  the  picture 
with  those  ghastly  half-eaten  corpses,  and  wriggling 
adders  and  horrors.  The  spiky  disgusting  dragon  was 
enough.' 

'  All  that  was  a  part  of  the  painter's  necessary 
meaning,  Florian.  Every  St.  George  must  charge  the 
dragon  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  in 
which  the  monster  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being.' 

'  Why  has  he  put  those  spiral  shells  in  front  ?  ' 
asked  Ardens.  '  Are  they  only  for  ornament  ?  ' 

'  No,'  said  Alciphron  ;  '  but  for  the  same  reason  as 
the  painter  has  placed  a  spiral  shell  in  the  hand  of  the 
young  satyr  in  that  other  picture  there,  which  I  showed 
you  not  long  ago.  The  shells  are  meant  to  be  symbols 
of  exhausted  passions.  But  I  see  you  don't  altogether 
care  for  my  pictures,  Florian ;  we  will  join  your 
father.' 

Ardens   would   have  liked  to  stay  longer,  but  the 


266  ALLEGORIES 

Mage  did  not  attempt  to  add  any  further  instructions, 
for  he  saw  that  the  younger  boy  was  in  a  bad  mood. 
It  is  useless,  he  murmured  to  himself, 

Opyveiv  enopbas  TTpos  ro/^ooi/ri  TrrjpaTi. 

A  charm  is  unavailing  when  the  knife  is  needed. 

When  the  boys  left,  he  merely  wished  them  a  very 
kind  farewell,  and  gave  them  his  blessing.  But  as 
they  passed  along  the  avenue  of  plane  trees  which 
led  from  his  house  he  gazed  after  them,  not  without 
deep  sadness,  shaking  his  head. 

'  I  do  not  greatly  fear  for  Ardens  ;  it  is  for  that 
beautiful  lad,  Florian,  that  I  am  anxious,'  he  said  to 
himself.  '  I  see  that  already  he  has  laid  himself 
open  to  the  snares  of  the  basilisk.  Alas  !  Alas  !  Can 
the  soul  never  learn  without  the  rod  of  experience, 
that  sternest  of  all  teachers  ?  And  why  are  even  her 
lessons  so  often  administered  too  late, or  in  vain?  But,' 
he  added  as  he  raised  his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven, 
'  though  life  be  dark,  a  ray  of  eternal  light  shall  one  day 
enlighten  it ;  and 

All  is  best,  though  we  oft  doubt 
What  the  unsearchable  dispose 
Of  highest  wisdom  brings  about, 
And  ever  best  found  at  the  close. 

And    yet — and   yet '      He    said   no  more,    but  a 

moment  later  bowed  his  head,  and  murmured, 


'  God's  in  His  heaven  ; 
All's  well  with  the  world.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  267 


There  on  that  side,  where  no  defence  doth  lie 
For  that  small  valley,  was  a  serpent  seen  ; 
Such,  maybe,  led  Eve  bitter  fruit  to  try. 

That  evil  snake  wound  grass  and  flowers  between, 
Wriggling  its  head  at  times,  and  licking  well 
Its  back  as  when  a  beast  itself  doth  clean. 

DANTE,  Purg.  viii.  97.     (PLUMPTKE.) 

THE  second  term  at  school  was  often  the  most  decisive 
of  character  for  a  Porphyrian  boy.  The  novelty 
had  worn  off ;  timidity  had  vanished  ;  conversations 
were  more  free  ;  comrades  were  less  shy  of  revealing 
themselves  in  their  true  character.  Florian  was  still 
in  the  full  bloom  of  his  popularity,  and  Trypho,  older 
than  he,  and  in  his  way  a  leader  among  the  boys, 
seemed  even  more  eager  than  at  first  to  be  his 
chosen  companion.  The  basilisk  began  to  be  more 
freely  alluded  to,  and — by  those  who  had  already 
become  its  votaries — in  a  way  expressly  designed  to 
stimulate  curiosity.  The  powers  of  evil  are  adepts 
at  inducing  their  victims  to  pass  from  the  dread 
and  the  hatred  which  they  inspire  in  innocent  souls, 
to  light  talk  respecting  them ;  and  from  light  talk  to 
a  passionate  wish  to  know  more  about  them  ;  and  from 
the  curiosity  to  the  desire  ;  and  from  the  desire  to  the 
impulse ;  and  from  the  impulse  to  the  determination ;  and 
from  the  determination  to  the  evil  act ;  and  from  the 
act  to  the  repetition ;  and  from  the  repetition  to  the 


268  ALLEGORIES 

habit ;  and  so  from  the  habit  to  the  character,  and  to 
the  hateful,  abject,  intolerable  servitude. 

We  are  not  worst  at  once  ;  the  course  of  evil 
Begins  so  slowly,  and  from  such  slight  source, 
An  infant's  hand  might  stem  the  breach  with  clay ; 
But  let  the  stream  grow  wider,  and  philosophy, 
Aye,  and  religion  too,  may  strive  in  vain 
To  stem  the  headlong  current. 

Florian— -his  loins  ungirded,  his  light  unburning, 
his  bell,  given  him  to  keep  off  the  demons,  unused  and 
forgotten — was  borne  along  the  full  tide  of  boyish 
happiness.  He  was  bright,  popular,  successful,  without 
a  care — caressed  and  spoilt,  because  of  his  rank  and 
wealth  and  fair  face.  He  was  having  showered  upon 
him  all  sorts  of  blandishments  and  flatteries.  He  was 
flourishing  like  a  green  bay  tree,  and  he  dreamt  neither 
of  the  chilling  frost  nor  of  the  worm  which  might 
cause  the  root  to  be  as  rottenness,  and  the  blossom  to 
go  up  as  dust.  He  was  living  as  though  he  were 
nothing  more  than  the  beautiful  creature  of  a  day 
which  should  have  no  ending  in  night.  It  never 
occurred  to  him  to  remember  that  evil  and  danger  were 
all  about  him,  that  he  was  surrounded  by  unseen 
enemies,  that  his  sole  security  lay  in  not  suffering 
them  to  have  the  smallest  part  in  his  being.  He 
never  realised  that  favour  is  deceitful  and  beauty 
vain,  and  that  our  acts  are  seeds  which  ripen  into 
ambrosial  or  empoisoned  fruit. 

And  thus,  in  his  case,  as  in  the  case  of  all,  '  the 
tempting  opportunity '  came  with  overpowering  force 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  269 

to  '  the  susceptible  disposition ; '  and  when  it  came  it 
found  him  not  only  unprepared  to  resist,  but  in  the 
secretly  cultivated  disposition  to  succumb. 

It  had  been  a  radiantly  happy  day  of  sunshine  and 
holiday  and  summer  bloom.  Florian,  like  many  of  the 
boys  around  him,  had  never  of  late  given  one  serious 
thought  to  the  duties  of  his  condition.  Not  one  hour 
from  morn  till  dewy  eve  had  been  tinged  with  a  more 
sober  colouring  than  that  of  immediate  enjoyment. 
This  might  have  been  natural  to  his  age,  and  even 
harmless,  if  he  had  faithfully  consecrated  the  day, 
were  it  but  for  one  moment,  by  'bent  head  and 
beseeching  hand  ;  '  had  he  but  placed  his  imperilled 
youth  under  the  care  of  the  Powers  which  tend  the 
soul.  But  neither  at  morn  when  he  arose,  nor  at 
night  when  he  lay  down  to  sleep,  nor  by  a  single 
uplifting  of  his  heart  in  a  cry  for  help  or  a  murmur 
of  self-dedication,  had  Florian  so  much  as  once,  for 
many  days,  looked  beyond  the  narrow  horizon  of  his 
own  being.  He  was  content  with  himself ;  he  relied 
on  himself.  Conceit,  which  had  always  been  one  of  his 
failings,  was  gratified  to  the  uttermost.  He  imagined 
that  there  never  was  a  boy  so  good  looking,  so  charming, 
so  universally  admired  as  himself.  The  unclouded 
brightness  of  his  present  enjoyments  sufficed  him.  Life 
flashed  for  him  like  a  shallow  streamlet  amid  the 
summer  blossoms,  and  he  did  not  choose  to  notice 
how  often  such  lives  become  polluted  with  alien 
influxes  ;  or  stagnate  in  subterranean  depths ;  or  are 
lost  under  the  dense  shadows  of  impenetrable  woods. 


270  ALLEGORIES 

A  warm  sunset,  with  its  air  full  of  music  and  per- 
fume, tempted  him  into  the  garden  of  the  school, 
which  was  fringed  on  one  side  by  a  great  forest.  He 
reclined  by  himself  on  the  green  grass.  The  scent  of 
roses  was  round  him.  He  had  been  very  successful 
that  day  in  the  school  games,  and  no  one  else  had 
been  applauded  so  loudly.  He  felt  inclined  to  plume 
himself  on  the  endowments  which  had  been  lavished 
on  him  from  his  birth,  and  he  secretly  looked  down 
on  boys  less  attractive  and  engaging.  In  his  pride, 
fulness  of  bread,  and  abundance  of  idleness,  with  no 
misgivings  to  trouble  him,  life  seemed  to  him  eminently 
worth  living  for  its  own  sweet  sake. 

He  was  inhaling  the  scent  of  the  flowers,  plucking 
their  bright  petals,  and  giving  himself  up  to  the 
indulgence  of  the  dolce  far  niente,  when,  suddenly— 
what  was  that  movement  in  the  soft  grass,  that  stirring 
of  the  flowers?  What  was  that  flash  and  gleam, 
which  seemed  to  add  to  his  thoughts  a  new  attractive- 
ness, and  to  promise  him  *  unimaginable  realms  of 
faerie  '  beyond  the  present  ? 

A  brighter  flash,  and  he  instantly  became  aware 
that  the  basilisk,  against  which  he  had  been  so 
earnestly  and  lovingly  warned,  was  close  by  him,  was 
within  touch  of  him,  was  beginning  to  creep  out  of 
the  shelter  of  leaves  and  blossoms.  He  was  in- 
stinctively conscious  that  in  one  moment  more  it 
would  be  completely  visible — all  poison  and  lustre 
and  flame.  He  saw  the  green  and  glittering  scales ; 
he  saw  the  semblance  of  the  golden  crown  on  its 


HE    BECAME    AWARE    THAT    THE    BASILISK   WAS    CLOSE    BY    HIM 


THE   BASILISK  AND   THE   LEOPAED  273 

head ;  one  second  more  and,  if  he  did  not  fly  or  avert 
his  glance,  those  eyes,  like  burning  carbuncles,  would 
be  fixed  full  on  his  own,  with  their  thrilling  bewitch- 
ment. And  he  knew — though  he  secretly  professed 
to  disbelieve — that  the  wilful  yielding  to  that  deadly 
fascination  would  mean  certain  loss  and  anguish,  and 
the  potentiality  of  awful  ruin.  For  he  knew  that 
to  encourage  the  basilisk  was  tantamount  to  saying, 
'  Evil,  be  thou  my  good.'  Yet  he  felt  helpless  to  escape, 
or  turn  his  eyes  away.  Nay,  much  more  than  this, 
he  felt  a  mad  longing  to  gaze  at  the  creature  once  for 
all,  to  clasp  it  to  his  heart,  and  fling  to  the  winds  all 
fear  or  doubt. 

The  scale  in  the  balance  of  his  destiny  was  trembling 
on  its  descent  to  the  wrong  side ;  but  Elyon,  the  Lord 
of  his  life,  who  is  very  merciful  to  all  his  children,  and 
who  was  grieved  at  the  peril  of  this  fair  young  being, 
gave  him  yet  another  chance  of  deliverance.  Indeed, 
it  was  a  matter  of  universal  experience  among  the 
Porphyrians  that  their  great,  unseen,  long-suffering 
King  put  a  strong  barrier  between  them  and  their  first 
transgressions.  The  records  of  thousands  of  them 
proved  that  ere  they  could  begin  a  course  of  peril  and 
disobedience,  they  found  themselves,  as  it  were,  in  a 
narrow  place  where  there  was  no  turning  either  to  the 
right  hand  or  to  the  left ;  where  spirits  of  mercy,  with 
drawn  swords  in  their  hands,  met  them ;  and  where 
even  the  dumb  creatures  seemed  to  speak  to  them  in 
voices  of  warning.  It  was  only  when  they  pressed  on, 
in  spite  of  the  warnings,  that  the  path  thereafter 

T 


274  ALLEGOEIES 

became  fatally  easy  to  them.  After  that,  they  were  let 
alone ;  they  were  suffered,  as  it  were,  to  walk  beside 
the  precipice  which  they  sometimes  only  saw  the 
moment  before  they  were  hurled  over  it,  and  some- 
times only  just  in  time  to  turn  back  and  flee  from  the 
overwhelming  peril. 

Florian  was  not  left  without  his  warning.  He  was 
on  the  point  of  stretching  out  his  hand  to  touch  the 
basilisk,  and  gaze  into  its  deathful  eyes,  when  he  was 
startled  by  a  noise  of  wings,  and  saw  a  white  dove 
flying  off  with  utmost  haste,  as  though  in  wild 
alarm,  dropping  a  torn  feather  in  its  flight.  It 
had  ventured  to  snatch  some  grains  out  of  a  trap, 
which  suddenly  falling  would  have  broken  its  wing  if 
it  had  not  sped  so  rapidly  away.  And  while  he  was 
involuntarily  gazing  on  its  hurried  flight,  he  saw  an 
eagle  dart  down  from  the  blue  sky  upon  a  black  snake. 
The  bird  fixed  its  talons  into  the  creature's  back ; 
but  the  snake  whirled  its  coils  about  the  outspread 
wings  and  body,  and  strove  to  crush  its  enemy. 
Florian  could  not  help  gazing  on  the  struggle ;  but 
it  only  lasted  a  minute.  The  eagle  drove  its  beak 
into  the  serpent's  head,  and  the  creature,  un writhing 
its  coils,  dropped  through  the  air  upon  a  rock,  where 
its  vertebrae  were  broken  into  fragments.  Uncon- 
sciously Florian  saw  in  the  dove's  flight  the  escape  of 
a  soul  from  dangerous  temptation ;  in  the  eagle's 
victory  over  the  serpent  a  type  of  the  possibility  of 
conquest.  He  felt  the  spell  of  the  basilisk  ;  but  he  had 
just  sufficient  strength  to  turn  away  from  it,  to  close 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  275 

his   eyes   hard,    and    to    cover    them    with   both   his 
hands. 

Yet  he  had  not  wholly  escaped  the  accursed  sorcery. 
When  he  opened  his  eyes,  the  sun  was  setting,  and  the 
basilisk  was  no  longer  visible,  though  he  felt  that  it 
was  near.  He  hurried  back  ;  for  the  evening  bell  was 
ringing  which  was  the  signal  for  all  the  boys  to  come  in. 


VI 

Adeo  mature  a  rectis  in  vitia,  a  vitiis  in  prava,  a  pravis  in  praecipitia 
pervenitur. — VELL.  PATEBC.  ii.  10. 

THE  next  few  days  he  was  miserable.  He  had  for 
once  escaped,  but  his  thoughts  reverted  constantly  and 
voluntarily  to  the  basilisk.  He  knew  that  it  would 
return  ;  he  persuaded  himself  that  it  was  useless  for 
him  to  attempt  permanent  resistance ;  he  hated  the 
anxiety  ;  he  hated  the  suspense  ;  he  hated  the  restraint. 
He  felt  the  inner  workings  of  the  bewitchment ;  he 
more  than  half  regretted  that  he  had  not  yielded. 
Alas  !  he  had  never  learnt  to  look  upward.  He  felt  a 
perilous  impulse  to  gaze  into  the  depths.  His  desire  to 
know  more  of  the  basilisk  was  intensified  ;  he  sought 
its  return  and  wished  to  sate  himself  with  its  subtly- 
proffered  benefits.  The  sole  force  which  kept  him  in 
check  was  not  rectitude,  but  vague  alarm  at  past 
warnings.  Uninfluenced  by  shame  at  leaving  what  was 
noble  for  what  he  felt  to  be  base,  the  only  barrier  left 

T    2 


276  ALLEGORIES 

between  him  and  the  passion  of  disobedience  was 
the  barrier  of  fear.  If  he  could  but  be  sure  that  any  of 
his  comrades  had  transferred  their  allegiance  from 
Elyon  to  the  basilisk,  and  had  suffered  no  harm,  not 
one  hindrance  would  remain  to  prevent  him  from 
following  their  example. 

Trypho  was  now  his  closest  friend,  his  daily 
companion  ;  and  he  felt  a  sort  of  instinctive  conviction 
that  Trypho  could  tell  him,  if  he  chose,  all  that  he 
wanted  to  know  about  the  basilisk. 

A  few  days  later  he  was  resting  with  Trypho  in 
the  summer  noon  on  a  bank  bright  with  poppies,  under 
the  shadow  of  a  great  tree.  Each  was  aware  of  the 
other's  thoughts,  but  neither  spoke  until  the  light 
breeze  blew  open  the  upper  fold  of  Trypho 's  tunic,  and 
Florian  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  small  enamelled  ornament 
attached  to  a  thin  chain  round  his  friend's  neck. 
Trypho,  noticing  the  boy's  glance,  covered  the  badge, 
but  with  a  smile  which  made  Florian  ask  what  that 
green  jewel  was. 

'  What  do  you  suppose  it  is  ?  '  said  Trypho. 

'  Is  it  one  of  Elyon's  amulets  ? '  asked  Florian 
hesitatingly. 

'  No,'  said  Trypho,  laughing.  '  Elyon  ?  Who  has 
ever  seen  him  ?  He  is  a  mere  name.  Have  you  any  of 
those  sham  charms  ?  ' 

'  I  had,'  said  Florian  ;  '  but  - 

'  Oh,  I  understand,'  said  Trypho,  laughing  again ; 
*  they  were  all  very  well  for  the  nursery  ;  but  now  we 
are  no  longer  babies.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  277 

As  Florian  heard  the  sneer,  there  seemed  to  flash 
through  his  soul  the  words,  '  Be  not  children  in  under- 
standing, but  in  wickedness  be  ye  babes.'  But  he 
rejected  the  warning,  and  said,  after  an  instant's  pause, 

'  Well  then — is  it  any  secret  what  that  enamel  is  ?  ' 

'  Do  you  really  want  to  know  ?  '  asked  Trypho. 

'Yes.' 

1  But  you  will  be  horrified.' 

'  Are  we  not  friends,  Trypho  ?  Why  should  I  be 
horrified  ?  ' 

'  You  will  keep  my  secret  ?  ' 

'  Of  course.' 

'Well  then,'  said  Trypho,  pulling  out  the  ornament, 
'  you  shall  see  it ' 

It  was  a  little  figure  of  the  basilisk,  wrought  in  green 
enamel,  with  a  tiny  crown  of  gold  round  its  head  and 
two  carbuncles  for  eyes.  Florian,  as  he  handled  it, 
grew  pale  and  trembled  ;  for  in  the  field  path,  just 
below  the  bank  where  he  and  Trypho  were  sitting,  a 
child  was  passing,  and  as  he  went  by  he  was  singing, 
unconscious  of  any  hearer,  the  verse  of  an  old  song  with 
the  refrain, 

'  Beware,  oh  beware  ! ' 

and  somehow  in  the  word  '  Beware  !  '  there  seemed  to  the 
ear  of  Florian  to  be  a  note  of  unearthly  warning.  But 
the  effect  of  the  sweet  voice  was  at  once  scattered  by  the 
light  laugh  of  Trypho. 

1  Why,  Florian,'  he  said,  '  you  look  as  if  you  had 
seen  a  ghost  !  It  is  only  a  harmless  ornament.' 


278  ALLEGORIES 

'  But  it  is  a  figure  of ' — Florian  almost  gasped  as 
he  uttered  the  word — '  of  the  basilisk.' 

Trypho  laughed  long  and  loud.  '  Well,  and  what 
if  it  is  ?  ' 

'  But,'  said  Florian,  '  I  thought  that  the  basilisk 
darted  poison  from  its  glance,  and  was  our  enemy.' 

*  Oh,  you  dear  young  innocent,'  said  Trypho. 

'  Well,  but  is  not  the  basilisk  a  baneful,  deadly  creature, 
which  ruins  those  who  tamper  with  it  ?  '  said  Florian, 
nettled  by  Trypho's  air  of  superior  knowledge. 

The  laugh  of  Trypho  only  became  more  gay ;  but 
at  last  he  said,  '  Nonsense,  Florian  ;  mere  nurses'  tales 
and  old  wives'  fables.  You  are  no  longer  a  child.' 

'  But,  Trypho,  have  you  ever  made  friends  with  the 
basilisk  ?  ' 

'  Of  course,  and  lots  of  other  fellows.' 

*  Any  that  I  know  ?  ' 

*  Oh,  you  young  innocent,'  said  Trypho  again.    *  Any 
that  you  know  ?     Why,  yes,  nearly  all  your  chief  chums. ' 

'  Facilis,  for  instance  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  the  harmless  young  Facilis,  and  Rhodon,  and 
Cyprius,  and  Thallus,  and  lots  more.' 

*  And  the  basilisk  has  done  them  no  harm  ?  ' 
'  What  harm  has  it  done  them  ?  ' 

A  voice  in  Florian's  heart  seemed  to  say  to  him, 
'  It  has  made  them  idle,  and  self-indulgent,  and  dis- 
loyal, and  unmanly,  and  selfish,  and  traitors  to  what  is 
good.'  But,  after  after  a  pause,  he  asked : 

'  Have  you  never  been  sorry  that  you  let  the  basilisk 
look  at  you  ?  ' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  279 

'  Sorry  ?  Not  I !  Why  shouldn't  we  enjoy  life, 
and  do  as  we  like  ?  ' 

'  Do  the  other  fellows  in  the  house  wear  this 
badge  ?  ' 

'  Yes  :  ask  any  one  of  them  you  please.' 

'  Even  Facilis  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  even   the  angelic  Facilis  who  is  so  fond  of 
you.' 

'  What  does  the  badge  mean  ?  ' 

*  It  means  that  we  have  joined  the  Society  of  the 
basilisk.' 

'  O  Trypho  !  does  not  that  mean  that  you  leave 
the  King  Elyon  for  Ashmod  ?  ' 

'  Ashmod  ?  '  said  Trypho.  '  Stuff  and  nonsense  ! 
There's  no  such  person  as  Ashmod.' 

Florian  was  silent. 

'  My  dear  fellow,'  said  Trypho,  passing  an  arm 
round  his  shoulder,  '  I  never  asked  you  to  join  the 
friends  of  the  basilisk  :  now,  did  I  ?  ' 

'  No,  not  in  so  many  words.' 

'  Well,  then,  we  need  say  no  more  about  it.  You 
can  do  as  you  like.  Let's  go  in  to  dinner.' 

Florian  was  determined  to  see  what  Facilis  would 
say  about  the  basilisk.  With  him  he  could  speak 
freely.  So,  as  he  sat  by  him,  he  said  straight  out : 

*  Facilis,  Trypho  says  you  wear  the  badge  of  the 
basilisk  round  your  neck.     Is  that  true  ?  ' 

'  Hang  Trypho  ! '  exclaimed  Facilis,   springing  up 
and  stamping  his  foot ;  '  I  hate  him  for  telling  you.' 
'But  do  you?' 


280  ALLEGORIES 

'Don't  ask  me,  Florian.' 

'  But  we  are  friends,  Facilis,  and  I  really  want  to 
know.' 

'  I  can't  and  won't  tell  you.' 

'  Then  that  means  that  you  do  wear  it ;  for  if  you 
didn't  you  would  at  once  say,  "No,  I  don't." 

'  Ah,  don't  despise  me,  Florian.  I  am  a  poor  weak 
fellow.' 

'  Nay,  you  are  a  very  dear  fellow,  Facilis.  And  why 
should  I  despise  you  ?  I  am  thinking  of  wearing  the 
badge  too.' 

'  Oh,  don't !  don't !  don't ! '  said  Facilis.  '  Ah,  I  see  ; 
Trypho  has  been  trying  to  mislead  you,  as  he  misled 
me.' 

'  Why,  the  basilisk  has  done  him  no  harm,  and  you 
no  harm.' 

*  Hasn't  it  ?  '  said  Facilis.     '  Ah  !  you  don't  know  ! ' 
'  But  I  want  to  know.' 

'  Dear  Florian,  don't  desire  to  know.  From  me  you 
shall  hear  no  syllable.  And  oh,  Florian,  though  I  say 
it,  beware  of  Trypho,  and  don't  believe  a  word  he  says ; 
but  believe  all  that  wise  and  good  men  tell  you  about 
the  basilisk.  He  is  the  enemy  of  King  Ely  on.' 

'  Then  how  about  you,  Facilis  ?  ' 

'Don't  ask  about  me.  It  has  been  very  fatal  to 
me  all  my  life  that  I  never  had  the  moral  courage 
to  say  no,'  answered  Facilis,  with  deep  dejection. 

*  Trypho  seems  quite  happy,  and   quite   likes  the 
basilisk.' 

'  It  might  have  been  well  for  me,  Florian,  and  for 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  281 

many  another,  if  Trypho  had  been  a  better  fellow  than 
he  is  —  and  more  true  to  Elyon.' 

'  He  says  that  that  is  only  copybook  morality  ;  like 
the  old  Ego  sum  puer  bonus,  et  me  Elyon  amatJ 

1  Copybook  morality  !  '  said  Facilis  very  earnestly. 
'  Didn't  you  hear  our  President  say  the  other  day  that 
all  the  work  of  life  and  the  whole  duty  of  man  reduces 
itself  to  this  :  "  Fear  Elyon  ;  keep  his  laws  "  ?  Don't 
you  remember  his  saying  that,  so  far  from  being  com- 
monplace, this  has  been  taught  in  all  ages  and  all 
lands  by  all  the  best  teachers  ;  that  it  is  a  rule,  broad 
as  the  sea,  clear  as  the  blue  sky,  steadfast  as  the  eternal 
hills  ?  What  can  Trypho  teach  compared  with  this, 
except  ruinous  mischief  ?  ' 

'  I  thought  Trypho  was  your  chief  friend  and  chum,' 
said  Florian. 

To  his  great  surprise  Facilis  burst  into  tears  and 
abruptly  left  him. 


VII 


&6eipov(Tiv  tf6i]  xprjffO'  6fMi\iai  /cot/ecu. 

/  MENANDEB  (quoted  1  Cor.  xv.  33). 

THUS  Facilis,  though  to  his  own  misery  he  had  been 
personally  weak,  did  honestly  try  his  best  to  save 
Florian  from  succumbing  to  the  evil  influences  which 
had  been  his  own  bane.  But  Florian  had  been  too 
wilfully  careless  in  allowing  the  basilisk  to  gain  an 
influence  over  his  mind,  and,  in  spite  of  the  warning 
of  his  friend,  determined  to  talk  about  the  demon  to 


282  ALLEGORIES 

other  boys  in  his  house  more  gay  and  audacious  than 
the  half-repentant  Facilis. 

He  thought  that  he  would  first  speak  to  Ehodon ; 
for  Rhodon  was  a  boy  of  quick  intelligence  and  pleasant 
manners,  who  had  read  more  than  most  of  the  Caeru- 
leans  (as  the  boys  in  the  Blue  House  were  called) ;  and 
he  was  the  son  of  a  nobleman  whose  park  bordered  on 
the  estate  of  Duke  Altus. 

'  Rhodon,'  he  said,  the  first  time  that  he  found  him 
sitting  alone,  '  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  truth  about 
the  basilisk.' 

'  What  do  you  want  to  know  ? '  said  Rhodon. 

'  Well,  I  know  that  you  have  let  him  come  to  you, 
for  Trypho  told  me  so.  Why  did  you  leave  King 
Elyon's  service  for  his  ?  ' 

1  My  father  is  a  very  clever  man,'  answered  Rhodon, 
'  and  I  know  that  he  does  not  believe  in  King  Ely  on 
at  all,  or  doubts  whether  he  troubles  himself  about  us ; 
for  one  day,  when  he  did  not  know  that  I  was  in  the 
room,  I  heard  him  say  so.  If  he  doesn't  believe  in 
Ely  on,  why  should  I  ?  ' 

*  You  horrify  me,'  said  Florian. 

'Well,  then,  let  us  drop  the  conversation,'  answered 
Rhodon  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

'  No,  but  what  good  did  you  get  by  welcoming  the 
basilisk  ? ' 

'  I  got  freedom,'  said  Rhodon. 

*  What  do  you  mean   exactly,  Rhodon  ? '     And  at 
that  moment  there  gleamed  into  Florian's  memory  a 
sentence  about  a  service  which  is  perfect  freedom. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  283 

'  Think  of  the  lecture  the  President  gave  us  the 
other  day  and  you  will  see.  From  first  to  last,  he  kept 
saying,  "  You  must  deny  yourselves;  you  must  abstain  ; 
you  must  give  up."  His  whole  advice  was,  "  Sustain 
and  abstain ;  desist  from  evil ;  resist  temptation ; 
persist  in  effort."  I  tell  you  frankly  I  don't  care  to  toil 
and  moil  through  life  in  that  way.  My  father  has 
many  guests,  brilliant,  clever,  handsome  men  of  high 
positions.  They  don't  talk  in  that  way  ;  they  don't  live 
like  that.  Neither  will  I.  I  am  much  more  inclined 
to  follow  the  rule,  "  Eat,  drink,  enjoy  thyself  ;  the  rest 
is  nothing." 

'  Ajid  is  that  what  you  advise  me  to  do  ?  ' 

'  I  advise  you  nothing,'  said  Ehodon,  who  was  noted 
in  the  school  for  his  haughty  independence.  '  Join  the 
saints  if  you  like  it  better.'  And,  to  put  an  end  to 
further  questions,  Rhodon  took  up  the  book  which  he 
had  been  reading. 

Still  restless,  still  miserable,  Florian  thought  that 
he  would  find  out  what  Cyprius  and  Thallus  had  to  say 
on  the  subject.  The  two  were  inseparable  friends, 
and  finding  them  one  day  sitting  in  the  school  garden, 
he  asked  if  he  might  come  and  sit  with  them. 

'  By  all  means,'  they  said,  for  Florian  was  a  welcome 
companion  among  the  Caeruleans. 

'Forgive  my  curiosity,'  he  said,  ' and  tell  me  whether 
you  two  wear  the  badge  of  the  basilisk,  as  Trypho  told 
me  you  do.' 

The  two  boys  exchanged  smiles  and  glances,  and 
Cyprius  asked,  '  Shall  we  tell  him,  Thallus  ?  ' 


284  ALLEGORIES 

'  Certainly,'  answered  Thallus.  'Look  here,  Florian,' 
and  each  of  them  showed  him  the  enamel  badge  worn 
round  their  necks  under  their  tunics. 

Florian  again  examined  the  badge  with  curiosity. 
'  But  what  do  you  mean  by  wearing  the  badge  ? '  he 
asked. 

'We  mean,'  said  Thallus,  '  that  we  will  follow  our 
bent,  and  not  be  checked  at  every  turn  by  a  parcel  of 
cut-and-dried  rules  ;  we  mean  to  please  ourselves  and 
live  as  we  like.' 

'  Yes,  and  to  talk  as  we  like,'  said  Cyprius ;  '  and 
to  think  as  we  like,  and  do  as  we  like.  There,  Florian  ; 
now  the  secret's  out.  That's  our  motto.' 

'  I  should  like  to  write  it  down,'  said  Florian. 

'  Do,'  said  Thallus.  '  Write  at  the  top,  "  The  boon 
of  the  basilisk,"  and  under  it  "  Live  as  you  like." 
Have  you  written  that  ? ' 

'Yes.' 

'  Under  that  write  in  three  lines  "  Talk  as  you  like," 
"Think  as  you  like,"  "Do  as  you  like."  Now  show 
me  what  you've  written,  and  let  me  see  if  it's  all 
right.' 

Florian  handed  them  his  ivory  tablet,  unconscious 
that  a  strange  marvel  had  happened  to  him.  For  as 
Thallus  spoke  in  a  tone  of  brazen  assurance,  with  each 
sentence  there  had  been  a  flash,  a  thrill,  a  whisper  in 
Florian's  conscience,  which  impressed  on  his  mind  the 
opposite  thought.  And  so  vivid  had  been  the  impres- 
sion, that,  impelled  by  some  unseen  power — without 
his  consent,  against  his  intention,  and  indeed  unknown 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  285 

to  himself — instead  of  what  Thallus  had  dictated  to 
him,  he  had  written  as  follows : 
1  The  bane  of  the  basilisk  : 

1.  Dead  while  you  live. 

2.  Vile  words  corrupt. 

3.  Wicked  thoughts  defile. 

4.  Thou  hast  destroyed  thyself.' 

Thallus  read  the  sentences,  and,  turning  on  Florian 
with  a  burst  of  rage,  cried  out,  '  What  humbug  is  this  ? 
Are  you  a  spy  on  us  ?  ' 

1  What's  the  matter  ?  '  asked  Florian  with  intense 
surprise. 

'  See  what  he's  written,'  said  Thallus,  handing  the 
tablet  to  Cyprius.  Then  both  boys  eyed  him  angrily 
and  suspiciously,  with  frowns  upon  their  foreheads. 

'  What  on  earth  is  the  matter?'  asked  Florian  again, 
still  more  astonished. 

'  Read  what  you  have  written,'  said  Thallus,  thrust- 
ing the  tablet  into  his  hand. 

Florian  in  utter  amazement  read  what  he  had 
written,  and  blushed  crimson. 

'  On  my  word  of  honour,'  he  said  passionately,  '  I 
thought  that  I  had  written  down  what  you  dictated. 
This  must  be  some  sorcery  of  the  Mage.' 

'  Likely  !  '  sneered  Thallus. 

The  two  boys  rose  and  left  him  with  flushed  and 
angry  countenances,  and  when  they  had  gone  Florian 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  wept. 

It  was  a  tremendous  warning,  and  it  was  the  last 
which  was  to  be  vouchsafed  to  him  for  many  days. 


286  ALLEGORIES 


VIII 

Grave  ipsius  conscientiae  pondus. 

Cic.,  De  Nat.  Deorum,  in.  35. 

HERE  again  was  a  decided  check — a  heaven-sent 
warning.  For  a  time  Florian  paused  in  his  evil  course, 
and  had  he  not  wilfully  hardened  his  heart  all  might 
now  have  been  well.  The  impression,  however,  wore 
away.  He  persuaded  himself  that  the  Mage  had 
practised  his  arts  upon  him.  Though  often  reproved 
he  hardened  his  heart.  He  had  been  much  impressed 
by  what  Facilis  had  said ;  but  instead  of  pondering 
over  it  he  took  the  worst  possible  course  by  repeating 
the  conversation  to  Trypho,  omitting  only  all  allusion 
to  Trypho  himself. 

But  Trypho  assumed  an  air  of  disdainful  indif- 
ference, and  only  condescended  to  say  that  Facilis  was 
a  poor  fool,  delightfully  good-natured  and  charming, 
but  faint-hearted  and  with  nothing  of  a  real  man  about 
him. 

All  that  afternoon  the  thoughts  of  Florian  were 
burning  with  a  passionate  desire  to  be  visited  by  the 
basilisk  again.  When  that  is  so,  no  Porphyrian  has 
long  to  wait.  That  very  evening  the  boy  strolled  to 
the  sheltered  nook  of  the  garden  where  he  had  seen 
the  creature  glimmer  among  the  flowers.  Almost  in  a 
moment  it  flashed  out  upon  him.  He  stretched  out  his 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  287 

hand  ;  it  fawned  upon  him,  drowned  him  in  glamour, 
and  fascinated  him  with  the  full  and  final  glance 
which  involved  its  victory  and  the  boy's  defeat. 
He  consciously  took  evil  by  the  hand,  and  from 
the  temple  of  his  soul  the  cloud  of  glory  moved 
away. 

For  a  time  he  felt  intoxicated  and  elated  with  fan- 
cied emancipation.  The  conceit  of  superior  freedom 
made  him  seem  as  if  he  trod  on  air.  At  last  he  was  un- 
fettered by  the  shackles  of  '  copybook  moralities.'  He 
did  not  attempt  to  conceal  from  Trypho  and  Facilis 
and  the  rest  that  he  too  had  imitated  their  courage 
in  making  friends  with  Elyon's  enemy  and  flinging 
fears  and  scruples  to  the  winds.  And  what  harm  had 
it  done  him  ?  None  !  So  he  boasted  to  himself  and  to 
them.  The  basilisk  was  his  obsequious  slave,  not  his 
master  ;  and  it  was  only  out  of  regard  for  the  maligned 
creature — whom  he  could  kick  away  in  a  moment  if 
he  liked — not  in  sign  of  servitude,  that  he  accepted 
the  green  enamelled  badge  and  became  its  votary. 
Trypho  smiled,  but  Facilis  turned  away  and  could  not 
suppress  a  deep  sigh. 

The  spell  was  not  at  once  exhausted.  It  was 
specially  delightful  to  the  vain  nature  of  Florian  to 
observe  that  in  the  set  of  schoolfellows  to  whom  he 
had  joined  himself,  he  was  now  more  than  ever  an 
admired  and  flattered  leader. 

But  very  soon  the  unhallowed  glow  died  at  inter- 
vals from  his  flushed  soul.  No  child  of  Elyon  can 
listen  to  the  voice  of  the  serpent  without  many  an 


288  ALLEGORIES 

agonising  reminder  that  he  was  made  for  that  nobler 
service,  which  is  perfect  freedom.  No  soul  which 
the  son  of  Elyon  died  to  save  can  pluck  from  the  tree 
of  knowledge  its  forbidden  fruit  without  the  anguish 
of  feeling,  sooner  or  later,  that  by  his  disobedience 
he  has  forfeited  Eden,  and  that  the  fiery  faces  and 
horrent  arms  of  the  Avengers  flame  between  him  and 
the  Tree  of  Life. 

To  Florian  the  reminder  that  the  crown  had  fallen 
from  his  head,  for  he  had  sinned,  came  in  many  forms. 
There  were  thoughts,  and  hopes,  and  feelings,  and 
memories,  which  before  had  been  full  of  sweetness, 
but  which  now  he  could  no  longer  cherish. 

He  felt  himself  to  be  an  apostate  from  the  best 
and  highest  which  he  had  known,  and  that  he  could  not 
profess  continued  allegiance  to  it  without  hypocrisy. 
The  mere  presence  of  other  boys  who  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  the  basilisk  was  a  silent  rebuke  to  him. 
And  while  he  was  daily  conscious,  deep  in  his  inner- 
most being,  of  a  subtle  uneasiness,  the  freedom  of 
choice,  which  he  first  thought  that  he  had  gained, 
became  to  him  the  most  deadly  of  all  losses.  All  that 
the  basilisk  could  give  him  was  the  glamour  over  a 
galling  servitude  ;  the  flicker  of  the  mirage  which  leads 
those  who  follow  it  to  wastes  of  barrenness  in  the 
thirsty  sands. 

One  day  he  heard  one  of  the  other  boys  reading  the 
story  of  the  witch  spinning  in  her  cavern  a  thread  so 
wondrously  fine  and  thin  that  it  was  invisible  except 
where  it  gleamed  like  golden  gossamer  in  the  light  of 


THE   BASILISK    AND   THE   LEOPARD  L>89 

the  odorous  fire.  And  as  the  youth  enters  the  cavern, 
and  gazes  at  her,  she  sings, 

'  Now  twine  it  round  thy  hands  I  say, 
Now  twine  it  round  thy  hands  I  pray  1 
My  thread  is  small,  my  thread  is  fine, 

But  he  must  be 

A  stronger  than  thee, 
Who  can  break  this  thread  of  mine.' 

The  youth  in  astonishment  winds  the  thread  around 
his  right  hand  and  his  left,  and  then  she  sings, 

*  Now  thy  strength,  0  stranger  strain  ! 
Now  then  break  the  slender  chain  !  ' 

He  tries,  and  tries  in  vain,  with  all  his  strength  to 
break  it.  It  is  a  magic  thread.  By  his  own  act  he 
has  made  himself  the  helpless  victim  of  his  enemies. 
He  is  bound  hand  and  foot. 

Just  such  a  victim  Florian  soon  felt  himself  to  be. 
It  would  have  been  easy  to  keep  from  rebellion  against 
the  Lord  of  his  life  ;  but  to  recall  that  freedom  when 
he  had  voluntarily  flung  it  away  was  hard.  He  had  of 
his  own  perverted  will  stept  out  of  the  light  into  the 
darkness ;  but,  oh,  would  it  be  possible  for  him  to  re- 
trace his  footsteps  and  struggle  into  the  light  and  air  of 
innocence  again  ? 

Any  return  to  the  '  unific  rectitude  '  of  an  obedient 
life  could  only  be  attained  by  climbing  the  rocky  and 
thorny  mountain  path  of  repentance  ;  and  that  painful 
toil  he  could  not  face.  He  sometimes  tried,  or  fancied 
that  he  tried,  to  do  so ;  but  his  efforts  to  break  the 

u 


290  ALLEGORIES 

spell   of  the  basilisk  were  too  discontinuous  and   too 
half-hearted  to  have  in  them  any  chance  of  success. 

Trypho  always  laughed  at  such  efforts,  and  con- 
stantly advised  him  to  throw  away  all  remorse,  and  all 
scruples,  and  all  allegiance  to  Elyon,  at  which  he 
sneered  as  a  mere  antiquated  absurdity  founded  on 
outworn  fables.  And  at  last,  Florian,  in  impatience 
and  despair,  determined  to  suppress  every  warning 
voice  within  him,  to  adopt  a  tone  of  defiance,  and  to 
make  no  attempt  whatever  to  return  to  better  things. 


IX 

Facilis  descensus  Averni ; 

Sed  revocare  gradum,  superasque  evadere  ad  auras, 
Hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est. — VIRG. 

E  piedi  e  man  voleva  il  suol  di  sotto. — DANTE,  Purgat.  iv.  33. 

So  closed  the  second  term  of  Florian  and  Ardens  at 
school,  and  they  again  returned  home  for  their  holidays. 
But  each  felt  that  he  had  drifted  farther  and  farther 
apart  from  the  other.  The  brothers  were  instinctively 
conscious  that  over  one  of  them  at  least  a  change  had 
passed  ;  that  there  was  a  widening  chasm  between  their 
aspirations  and  desires.  For  now  they  scarcely  ever 
saw  each  other  at  school.  Florian  had  become  the 
friend  and  leader  of  a  set  about  whom  Ardens  knew 
little,  but  whom  he  could  not  help  disliking  and  de- 
spising ;  and  Ardens  had  chosen  his  intimates  among 
lads  about  whom  Florian  felt  with  intense  resentment 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE    LEOPARD  291 

that,  so  far  from  paying  any  court  to  him,  as  others 
did,  they  shrank  from  him  and  kept  him  at  a  distance. 

Ardens  had  often  felt  a  deep  uneasiness  about  his 
brother ;  but  Florian  so  resolutely  closed  the  door 
against  all  confidences  between  them,  and  assumed 
such  airs  of  disdainful  indifference  if  his  brother  ever 
tried  to  say  a  serious  word  to  him,  that  Ardens,  per- 
plexed and  disheartened,  knew  of  no  way  by  which  he 
could  influence  him  for  good.  Then  it  occurred  to  him 
that  perhaps  Facilis — one  of  the  few  boys  in  the  Blue 
house  for  whom  he  cared — might  be  able  and  willing 
to  help  him  in  saving  Florian  from  plunging  into  a 
hopelessly  bad  career.  One  day,  finding  Facilis  alone 
in  the  garden,  Ardens  came  and  spoke  to  him,  and 
Facilis  greeted  him  with  warm  cordiality. 

*  I  wish  I  saw  more  of  you,  Facilis,'  said  Ardens ;  '  but 
somehow  the  fellows  in  your  house  keep  to  themselves, 
and  I  can  scarcely  ever  find  you  alone.' 

'  At  any  rate  you  know,  Ardens,  how  much  I  have 
always  liked  and  looked  up  to  you.' 

'  I  came,'  said  Ardens,  '  to  ask  if  you  can  do  nothing 
to  help  my  brother.  I  know  his  affection  for  you,  and 
yours  for  him.' 

'I  don't  deserve  any  one's  affection,'  said  Facilis 
despondently  ;  '  but  I  would  do  anything  for  Florian.' 

'  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  way  he  is  going  on, 
Facilis  ?  I  don't  myself  at  all  like  the  line  he  seems  to 
be  taking.' 

'  I  am  the  last  person  to  have  any  right  to  judge  or 
condemn  him  or  any  one,'  said  Facilis. 

u  2 


292  ALLEGOEIES 

'  But  you  are  not  satisfied  with  his  ways  ?  ' 

'  I  might  say  that,  if  I  had  any  sort  of  right  to  say 
it,'  answered  Facilis,  his  face  full  of  sadness. 

'  Can  you  do  nothing  to  advise  or  to  help  him  ? ' 

'  I  have  forfeited  all  claim  to  do  so,  Ardens.  I  have 
sometimes  feebly  tried  to  say  something.  But  Florian 
is  no  worse  than  I  am  myself.  He  can  twist  me  round 
his  little  finger.  I  have  no  power  to  influence  others 
as  he  has,  and  my  influence,  compared  to  that  of  his 
friend  Trypho,  is  as  a  spider's  thread  to  a  cable.' 

'  I  wish  I  could  get  him  out  of  the  Blue  house,' 
said  Ardens. 

'  So  do  I  with  all  my  heart,'  said  Facilis  ;  '  and 
would  that  I  had  not  been  in  it !  Oh,  Ardens  !  if  I  were 
a  good  and  strong  fellow  like  you,  I  might  help  to  save 
Florian.  But  I  am  nothing  and  nobody ;  and  it  re- 
quires some  one  far  better  than  I  am  to  be  of  any  use.' 

He  wrung  Ardens  by  the  hand,  and,  as  was  usual 
with  him  when  he  could  not  trust  himself  to  control 
his  emotion,  he  turned  away. 


X 

But  life  is  stormy  and  youth  is  vain, 
And  to  be  wroth  with  those  we  love 
Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain ; 
Each  spake  words  of  high  disdain 
And  insult  to  his  heart's  best  brother. 

COLERIDGE,  Christabel. 

OF  course,  when  they  were  at  home  in  the  castle  of 
the  Duke,  their  father,  Ardens  and  Florian  were  con- 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  293 

stantly  thrown  together.  But  there  all  the  circum- 
stances were  wholly  different.  There  Florian  was  not 
surrounded  by  temptation  and  by  bad  companions,  and 
he  showed  for  the  most  part  only  the  brighter  side  of  his 
character,  though  even  at  home  he  resolutely  prevented 
all  approach  to  confidential  conversation  with  his 
brother ;  and  this  tended  to  keep  them  apart. 

But  one  summer  afternoon  during  those  holidays 
the  alienation  between  the  two  boys  culminated,  and 
culminated  terribly.  They  had  gone  down  to  bathe  in 
the  river  which  flowed  round  the  domain  of  Altus,  and 
Florian,  who  was  habitually  careless  and  self-indulgent, 
forgot  that  he  was  wearing  round  his  neck  the  enamelled 
badge  of  the  basilisk.  He  took  it  off  for  his  bathe, 
but  flung  it  down  carelessly  upon  his  clothes,  and 
thought  no  more  about  it. 

Ardens  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 

'  Now  then,  Florian  !  '  he  exclaimed, 

'  Desilit  in  latices,  alternaque  brachia  ducens, 
In  vitreis  translucet  aquis.' 

'  Oh,  no  holiday  tasks  now  ! '  said  Florian. 

'  Well  then,  Florian,  let's  see  which  of  us  can  take 
the  best  header.' 

They  plunged  with  delight  under  the  warm  summer 
air  into  the  bright  water,  and  after  a  good  swim 
climbed  the  bank  to  dress.  While  they  were  dressing 
Florian  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  hilt  of  the  sword  of 
Ardens. 

'  What  is  that  ?  '  he  asked  curiously. 


294  ALLEGORIES 

Now,  it  was  understood  that  the  gifts  of  Alciphron 
were  for  private  use,  and  were  never  to  be  idly  paraded. 
Ardens  felt  a  little  vexed  with  himself  for  his  careless- 
ness, but  he  answered  quite  simply  : 

'  It  is  an  amulet,  or  whatever  he  calls  it,  given. me 
by  Alciphron.' 

It  was  one  of  the  marks  of  Florian's  degeneracy 
that  he  now  always  pretended  to  sneer  when  the  Mage 
was  mentioned. 

'  An  old  proser,'  he  said,  '  who  talks  baby  non- 
sense.' 

Ardens  checked  an  impulse  to  anger,  and  said,  '  I 
suppose  it  was  your  friend  Trypho  who  taught  you  to 
adopt  that  tone  ?  ' 

'  And  if  he  did,'  said  Florian,  '  it  is  no  concern  of 
yours.  I  like  Trypho  ;  he  is  ten  times  more  my  friend 
than  you  are.' 

'  So  much  the  worse,  my  brother,'  said  Ardens 
gently,  after  a  pause.  '  But  I  should  have  thought 
that  it  did  concern  me  a  little,  Florian.' 

'  Oh,  don't  try  to  assume  the  elder  brother  over 
me,'  said  Florian.  '  It  might  have  been  different  if  you 
had  ever  cared  for  me  at  school,  and  not  snubbed  me, 
and  tried  to  look  down  on  me.  I  have  got  beyond  all 
that  now.' 

'  Yes,  and  beyond  a  good  many  other  things,  Florian, 
not  much  to  your  advantage.  Well,  I  never  knew  yet 
that  you  thought  I  wished  to  snub  you,  though,  I 
confess,  I  don't  like  your  friends — except  Facilis.' 

'  I  don't  care  whether  you  do  or  no,'  said  Florian 


THE  BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  295 

frigidly ;  '  and  as  for  the  X)ld  Mage,  I  don't  want  any 
more  infant-school  lectures  of  "Be  good,  be  good,  be 
good."  They  are  as  old  as  the  hills.' 

'Yes,  and  if  you  try  to  grasp  their  meaning,' 
said  Ardens  quietly,  'they,  are  as  splendid  as  the 
stars.' 

'  Oh  how  eloquent  we  are  ! '  sneered  Florian,  and 
after  that  he  sank  into  disdainful  silence. 

But  Ardens  had  made  many  an  earnest  resolve  that 
his  brother's  taunts,  however  intolerable  he  found  them, 
should  not  carry  him  out  of  himself.  -So  again  he 
paused,  and  then  said  : 

'  I  am  afraid,  Florian,  that  you  have  got  to  prefer 
the  voices  which  say  to  all  of  us,  long  before  we 
have  left  the  nursery,  "  Be  bad,  be  bad,  be  bad."  ' 

Florian  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  answer,  so  there 
the  conversation  might  have  ended,  had  not  Ardens 
suddenly  caught  sight  of  the  badge  of  the  basilisk 
lying  on  Florian 's  shirt.  He  had  heard  something 
about  this  at  school,  but  he  still  retained  the  healthy 
horror  of  the  basilisk  which  he  had  learnt  from  every 
wise  teacher  he  had  ever  heard,  and  he  was  not  only 
amazed,  but  fairly  alarmed  to  see  the  glittering  badge 
of  the  enemy  of  Ely  on  lying  amid  the  clothes  of  his 
brother,  and  evidently  as  an  ornament  which  he  had 
worn  around  his  neck. 

'  Good  heavens,  Florian  !  '  he  exclaimed,  pointing  to 
the  green  enamel,  '  what  monstrous  thing  is  that  ?  I 
never  saw  it  before,  but  it  looks  to  me  like  an  image  of 
the  basilisk.' 


296  ALLEGORIES 

Florian  instantly  hid  the  badge  in  alarm,  and 
turned  his  back  on  Ardens. 

'  I  will  know  what  it  is,'  said  Ardens  impetuously. 
'  You  shall  not  secretly  sell  yourself  to  Ashmod  without 
my  trying  to  prevent  you.' 

'  Mind  your  own  business,  Ardens/  said  Florian 
furiously.  '  What  right  had  you  to  watch  me  while  I 
was  dressing,  and  to  play  the  spy  ? ' 

'  I  no  more  played  the  spy  than  you  did,  when  you 
saw  what  I  was  wearing,'  answered  Ardens,  suppressing 
with  difficulty  his  hot  temper,  and  trying  to  speak 
calmly,  though  his  voice  shook  a  little.  'I  did  but 
catch  a  chance  glimpse  of  that  badge.' 

'  Badge  ?  '  said  Florian.    *  Who  said  it  was  a  badge  ?  ' 

'  Well,  of  that  green  ornament  or  whatever  it  is— 
just  as  you  caught  a  glimpse  of  my  sword,  and ' 

'  Oh,  how  fine  we  are,  how  good  we  are,  with  our 
sword !  '  interrupted  Florian,  putting  into  his  voice  the 
most  offensive  tone  of  provocation. 

The  effort  of  Ardens  to  keep  his  temper  was  put  to 
a  very  severe  strain  by  the  irritating  tone  which  his 
brother  seemed  to  be  purposely  adopting.  He  knew 
that  the  liability  to  bursts  of  anger  was  one  of  his 
chief  temptations,  and  more  than  once  it  had  caused  him 
serious  trouble  at  school.  But  now  he  almost  heard  the 
leopard— against  which  Alciphron  had  affectionately 
warned  him — rustling  amid  the  brushwood  of  the 
grove  in  which  they  were  seated.  His  only  safety  lay 
in  stopping  to  master  himself  before  he  spoke. 

*  Florian,'  he  said  sternly,  but  not  unkindly,  'you 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  297 

want  to  put  me  in  a  rage  with  you,  as  you  did  once 
before.  Do  not  provoke  me  too  far.  I  have  a  right  to 
know  what  that  thing  is  which  you  have  been  wearing 
round  your  neck.'  And  he  advanced  towards  Florian 
with  a  determined  look. 

Florian  sprang  to  his  feet.  '  You  shall  not  know/ 
he  said.  '  You  shall  not  pry  and  sneak  on  me.  Keep 
your  fine  lectures  to  yourself.  I  hate  you,  Ardens. 
Stand  back  !  ' 

'  I  mean  nothing  unkind,  Florian,  but  1  will  know 
what  you  have  been  after.' 

He  put  his  hand  with  a  firm  grasp  on  the  shoulder 
of  his  brother.  But  Florian  was  now  not  only 
thoroughly  enraged,  but  genuinely  alarmed.  He 
wrenched  himself  out  of  his  brother's  grasp,  and  when 
Ardens  again  tried  to  seize  hold  of  him,  he  struck  him 
in  the  face  with  all  his  might. 

Ardens  seized  the  boy,  threw  his  arms  round  him, 
flung  him  to  the  ground,  and  put  his  foot  upon  his 
breast.  The  leopard  was  stealthily  creeping  nearer  and 
nearer  to  him,  with  its  fiery  eyes  fixed  upon  him  ;  and 
Ardens,  overmastered  by  passion,  would  have  been 
hurried  into  some  act  of  fiercest  violence,  which  he 
might  have  had  to  deplore  all  his  life,  if  he  had  not  at 
that  very  moment  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  silver  cross 
which  formed  the  hilt  of  the  protecting  sword  which 
Alciphron  had  given  him.  Instead  of  striking  Florian, 
he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  take  his  brother's 
odious  badge.  But  Florian,  in  a  transport  of  fury 
and  despair,  leapt  up,  and  springing  to  the  place 


298  ALLEGORIES 

where  the  clothes  of  Ardens  lay — for  he  was  but  half 
dressed — seized  them  in  a  mass,  sword  and  all,  and 
flung  them  into  the  river. 

Ardens  saw  .his  sword  sink,  he  saw  his  tunic  floating 
down  the  stream.  Never  before  had  he  received  so 
deadly,  so  contumelious  an  insult.  He  forgot  all  about 
the  basilisk,  and  was  bent  on  inflicting  upon  his  brother 
such  a  punishment  as  he  never  should  forget.  The 
leopard  was  now  crouching  for  its  deadliest  spring  ;  it 
bounded  upon  Ardens  all  flame  and  fury.  Far  stronger 
than  Florian,  Ardens  seized  the  boy  by  the  waist,  lifted 
him  up,  and  would  in  another  moment  have  flung  him 
bodily  over  the  bank  of  the  river,  in  a  transport  of 
ungovernable  passion. 

But  up  to  this  point  Ardens  had  been  stoutly  and 
faithfully  fighting  against  his  besetting  temptation,  and 
therefore  he  was  not  abandoned  to  his  spiritual  enemy. 
Before  he  had  been  hurried  into  some  irreparable  act 
of  rage,  he  suddenly  heard  a  voice  cry  out,  *  Ardens ! 
Ardens  !  ' 

His  father  had  been  looking  for  the  boys,  and  not 
seeing  them,  or  knowing  where  they  were,  was  calling 
for  him. 

The  voice  recalled  him  to  himself,  changed  his 
purpose,  saved  him  from  his  impending  sin.  He 
checked  himself  with  an  effort,  which  left  him  trembling 
from  head  to  foot,  and,  releasing  his  brother,  said, 
'  Shout  back  to  father.'  Then,  turning  to  the  river, 
he  dived  in,  half  dressed  as  he  was,  to  swim  after 
his  floating  clothes  and  to  recover  his  lost  sword, 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAED  299 

which  he  saw  shining  at  the  bottom  of  the  clear 
water. 

Florian  hurriedly  concealed  the  green  jewel  of  the 
basilisk,  and  then  called  out,  '  Here  we  are,  father ;  we 
have  been  having  a  bathe.' 

Ardens  recovered  his  sword  and  his  tunic,  but 
it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  struggled  back  to  the 
river  bank.  For  though  he  had  been  successful  in 
resisting  the  tremendous  passion  by  which  he-  had 
been  suddenly  assailed,  that  effort  had  shaken  his 
whole  frame.  By  this  time  his  brother  had  dressed 
and  gone  to  join  his  father.  Ardens  was  alone  ;  his 
clothes  were  dripping  wet.  He  had  to  undress,  to 
wring  them  dry,  and  to  lay  them  in  the  sun  which  was 
now  burning  in  the  meridian.  He  sat  down  in  a  mood 
of  extreme  bitterness,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

He  had  been  victorious  over  sudden  temptation. 
Nay,  but  had  he  ?  True,  he  had  at  first  resisted  its 
impulse,  but  nevertheless  his  enemy  the  leopard  had 
nearly  mastered  him ;  he  had  not  wholly  escaped  its 
cruel  claws.  Yet  help  from  above  had  come  to  him  in 
the  decisive  moment.  He  had  been  snatched  from  the 
leopard,  even  though  he  had  not  smitten  it  with  his 
sword.  But  oh  !•  what  could  he  think  of  his  unhappy 
brother  ?  '  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?  '  he  asked  him- 
self, and  the  voice  answered  clear  and  loud  within  him, 
'  Indeed  you  are.' 

Was  it  true,  then,  that  at  school  he  had  despised 
and  neglected  Florian  ? 

'  I  can  do  nothing  with  him,'  he  pleaded  to  himself. 


300  ALLEGORIES 

'  He  is  conceited  and  wilful.'  '  Have  you  really  tried?' 
answered  the  inward  voice.  '  Might  not  more  have 
been  achieved  by  genuine  brotherly  love ?  '  'I  am  to 
blame,'  he  thought ;  '  I  might  have  tried  to  do  more  for 
my  brother.  But  ever  since  that  unhappy  blow  on  the 
cheek,  Florian  has  resented  my  influence.  0  that  I 
had  not  lost  that  battle  !  My  fault !  my  fault ! ' 

But  now  what  was  to  be  done?  Florian  was 
secretly  wearing  the  badge  of  the  basilisk ;  he  must 
indeed  have  fallen  terribly.  And  Ardens  could  only 
wring  his  hands,  and  then  uplift  his  eyes  shining  with 
tears,  in  supplication  to 

The  powers  which  tend  the  soul, 
To  snatch  it  from  the  death  which  cannot  die, 
And  save  it  even  in  extremes. 

Before  the  day  was  over,  haunted  by  a  word  from 
Ely  on 's  book,  which  said,  *  Let  not  the  sun  go  down 
upon  your  wrath,'  Ardens  sought  his  brother,  and, 
humbling  himself,  begged  that  they  might  exchange 
forgiveness  with  each  other,  and  be  as  friends  and 
brothers.  So  far  as  words  were  concerned,  Florian 
muttered  a  sullen  consent.  He  gave  Ardens  his  hand, 
but  not  his  heart. 

'  Florian,'  said  Ardens,  '  apart  from  my  outburst 
this  afternoon,  if  I  have  really  been  cold  or  disdainful 
to  you  at  school,  I  did  not  mean  to  be  so.  I  find  it  diffi- 
cult ever  to  see  you.  Forgive  me,  I  will  try  to  do  better 
next  term.' 

'  Never  mind/  said  Florian,  '  I  have  plenty  of 
friends.' 


THE   BASILISK    AND   THE   LEOPARD  301 

'And,  0  Florian,'  said  Ardens,  'you  must  not 
resent  what  I  say  again  ;  but  will  you — oh,  will  you  fling 
away  that  horrid  badge  ?  ' 

'  If  I  choose  to  wear  it  I  do  not  see  that  it  hurts 
you,'  said  Florian. 

'  But  it  hurts  yourself,  my  brother.  The  basilisk  is 
the  enemy  of  all  good.' 

'  It  isn't,'  said  Florian.     '  It  has  done  me  no  harm.' 

'  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,'  said  Ardens ;  *  and  if  it 
has  not,  I  am  quite  sure  that  it  will.' 

Now  Florian  was  dreadfully  afraid  that  Ardens 
would  tell  his  father  of  his  disgraceful  abandonment  of 
his  allegiance  to  Elyon ;  so  he  said,  '  Well,  if  you  will 
let  me  alone  and  not  betray  me,  perhaps  I  will  throw 
the  thing  away.' 

'  You  promise  ? ' 

Florian  said  nothing ;  he  hesitated.  Then,  with  a 
sudden  cry,  he  seized  his  brother's  hand,  and  said,  '  0 
Ardens,  you  are  a  better  fellow  than  I  am.  Yes,  I  will 
throw  it  away.  At  least  I  will  try.' 

When  Ardens  left  him  he  took  the  chain  off  his 
neck,  and  flung  it  with  the  badge  to  the  top  of  a  high 
bookshelf,  where  he  hoped  that  it  would  lie  forgotten 
in  the  dust. 

But  the  basilisk  was  not  to  be  got  rid  of  on  such 
easy  terms,  though  while  the  boy  was  at  home  it  had 
more  or  less  been  letting  him  alone. 

A  morning  or  two  afterwards  he  found  the  badge 
on  his  dressing  table ;  a  servant,  in  cleaning  out  the 
room,  had  found  it  and  left  it  there, 


302  ALLEGORIES 

Then  he  flung  it  out  of  the  window  into  the  middle 
of  a  dense  shrubbery ;  but  an  hour  or  two  later  he  saw 
that  a  tame  magpie  had  found  the  glittering  thing  and 
was  dragging  it  with  his  beak  across  the  lawn.  Afraid 
that  his  father  would  see  it,  he  ran  down  and  recovered  it. 

Then,  but  very  half-heartedly,  he  broke  the  badge 
off  the  chain  and  tossed  it  into  the  artificial  lake  in 
the  garden.  He  thought  that  now  he  was  rid  of  it 
at  last.  But  a  strange  thing  happened.  The  lake 
was  shallow ;  the  badge,  which  was  quite  small  and 
light,  had  slipped  through  the  water  into  the  half- 
opened  bud  of  a  water-lily.  In  a  day  or  two  the  lily 
reared  its  head  above  the  surface  and  expanded  its 
white  and  scented  blossom.  Florian  was  amusing 
himself  by  fishing  in  the  lake,  when  he  noticed  some- 
thing flashing  in  one  of  the  white  immaculate  flowers 
by  which  he  was  surrounded.  He  pushed  the  boat 
through  the  dense  green  lily  leaves  to  see  what  it  was. 
He  plucked  the  water-lily.  There,  among  its  yellow 
stamens,  lay  the  shining  badge,  and  the  little  carbuncles, 
which  were  its  eyes,  seemed  to  gleam  with  an  un- 
natural lustre. 

Here  was  another  crisis  in  his  life  !  Again  the 
warning  came ;  for  suddenly,  and  quite  near  him,  he 
heard  a  voice  say  loud  and  clear,  '  Do  not  touch  it ! ' 

Pshaw !  it  was  only  one  of  the  gardeners  on  the 
island  in  the  lake,  telling  his  child  not  to  pick  up  an 
adder  which  he  had  just  struck  with  his  spade. 

'Shall  I  take  it?'  Florian  asked  himself,  half 
aloud. 


HE    PLUCKED    THE    WATER-LILY 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  305 

'  You  can't  help  yourself,  you  must !  Besides,  look 
what  a  beautiful  thing  it  is  !  '  seemed  to  whisper  a  soft 
insinuating  voice.  *  Would  you  after  all  desert  me, 
your  kind  and  indulgent  friend?  You  can't,  you 
know.' 

Florian  looked  up.  Upon  a  sunny  bank,  under 
festoons  of  the  dark  purple  flowers  of  the  deadly  night- 
shade, stood  the  basilisk  himself,  and  the  golden  circle 
seemed  to  gleam  with  unusual  vividness  round  the 
king-serpent's  head.  Once  more  the  arrowy  glance 
shot  into  the  boy's  eyes. 

'  It  is  my  fate !  '  he  said,  and  seized  the  badge  from 
the  water-lily.  He  flung  something  away,  but  it  was 
the  immaculate  flower,  not  the  gleaming  badge.  And 
as  the  silver  blossom  plashed  into  the  water,  and  as  he 
hid  the  badge  in  the  breast  of  his  robe,  he  heard  a  low 
malignant  laugh,  and  a  huge  raven  croaked  from  the 
nest  in  the  tree  above  his  head. 

But  it  was  too  late  for  warning.  He  had  made  his 
choice. 


XI 

Ever  against  the  stream  God's  man  must  row, 
•    Easy  thine  oar,  and  devilward  thou  shalt  go. 

LAYBRIDGE. 

AFTER   their   summer   holidays  the  boys  returned   to 
school  once  more. 

And  at  school  Ardens  again  sought  the  society  of 
the   strongest,   the   manliest,  and   most   right-minded 

x 


306  ALLEGORIES 

boys,  while  Florian  became,  together  with  Trypho,  an 
acknowledged  leader  of  those  who,  having  practically 
forgotten  the  guide  of  their  youth  and  forsaken  the 
covenant  of  their  God,  had  said  in  their  hearts,  if  not  in 
their  open  words, '  I  choose  the  evil,  and  refuse  the  good.' 

In  this  way  things  went  on  for  several  terms,  during 
which  the  brothers  seemed  to  drift  farther  and  farther 
apart  from  each  other.  While  Ardens  was  rewarded 
for  honest  and  faithful  efforts  by  confirmation  of  all 
that  was  best  and  noblest  in  his  character,  the  unhappy 
Florian — all  the  more  unhappy  in  that  he  did  not  re- 
cognise his  peril— became  more  and  more  decidedly  a 
follower  of  that  which  is  evil. 

After  their  second  year  at  school  was  concluded,  the 
circumstances  of  both  brothers  were  complicated  by 
the  arrival  at  school  of  a  new  boy,  who  had  indeed 
accompanied  them  all  the  way  from  the  castle  of 
Duke  Altus,  and  had  entered  the  school  under  their 
introduction. 

His  name  was  Candidus,  and  his  face,  in  its 
winning  openness,  seemed  to  reflect  his  name.  In  age 
he  was  little  more  than  a  child,  for  he  had  not  yet 
reached  his  thirteenth  year ;  but  it  was  impossible  to 
look  at  him  without  regard  and  interest,  for  his  features 
wore  the  impress  of  serene  untroubled  goodness, 
though  they  were  easily  touched  with  a  modest  blush. 
You  could  read  all  his  thoughts :  they  shone  through 
his  eyes, 

Like  bottom  agates  seen  to  wave  and  shine 
In  crystal  currents  of  clear  morning  seas. 


-THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  307 

He  had  none  of  the  remarkable  and  aristocratic  beauty 
of  Florian,  but  there  was  no  fairer  specimen  of  innocent 
boyhood  in  the  great  Porphyrian  school.  His  face  was 
the  reflex  of  a  soul  which  resembled  some  silver  mirror 
unstained  by  even  a  passing  breath. 

Candidus  was  not  of  noble  birth  like  the  two 
brothers.  His  father  was  a  humble  tenant  on  the 
estate  of  Duke  Altus ;  but  he  was  proud  of  his 
gifted  and  blameless  boy,  and  one  day  he  had  asked  the 
great  nobleman  how  best  to  provide  for  the  future  of 
his  son.  The  Duke  had  seen  the  boy,  talked  to  him, 
and  been  much  pleased  with  him.  He  thought  that 
such  a  boy,  though  younger  than  his  own  two  sons, 
would  be  a  harmless  and  delightful  companion  to  them  ; 
and  as  he  was  always  kind  and  generous,  he  offered 
his  tenant  to  provide  for  the  education  of  Candidus, 
and  to  send  him  at  his  own  expense  to  the  school, 
which  would  otherwise  have  been  far  too  costly  for  the 
means  of  one  who  occupied  so  humble  a  position. 

So  Candidus  was  presented  to  Ardens  and  Florian 
by  their  father,  who  placed  the  boy,  as  it  were,  under 
their  protection,  so  far  as  his  favourable  introduction 
to  the  school  was  concerned.  They  took  him  on  the 
journey  with  them,  and  were  not  sorry  to  return 
to  their  schoolfellows  in  charge  of  a  lad  who,  they  felt 
sure,  would  do  nothing  but  credit  to  themselves  and  to 
the  school. 

Candidus  felt  confidence  in  Ardens  at  once.  Some- 
thing in  the  look  of  the  young  heir  of  Altus,  who  would 
one  day  succeed  to  the  great  ducal  domains,  won 

x  2 


308  ALLEGORIES 

the  boy's  esteem.  He  felt  that  he  could  implicitly 
trust  him.  He  knew  that  Ardens  would  play  no 
practical  jokes  upon  him ;  would  not  mislead  him 
with  any  '  crams  ' ;  would  give  him  good,  manly,  useful 
counsel,  and  would  be  a  strong  and  steadfast  friend. 
Curiously  enough  he  could  not  sincerely  like  Florian, 
who  was  usually  regarded  as  the  more  graceful 
and  attractive,  as  well  as  the  better  looking  -of  the 
two  brothers.  Florian,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  strongly 
drawn  towards  him.  He  laid  himself  out  to  please  the 
boy,  answered  more  fully  than  Ardens  his  eager  and 
anxious  questions  about  the  school,  and,  so  far  from 
assuming  any  airs  of  patronage,  seemed  almost  timidly 
to  court  his  friendship. 

Candidus  feared  that  his  plebeian  birth  would  lead 
to  his  being  looked  down  upon,  and  that  his  compara- 
tive poverty  would  be  a  constant  obstacle  to  his 
intercourse  with  his  schoolfellows,  since  he  could  not 
join  in  all  their  subscriptions,  or  spend  his  money  as 
they  did.  But  his  path  was  smoothed  by  his  two 
friends.  Ardens,  in  a  perfectly  frank  and  manly  way, 
furnished  the  money  which  was  necessary  for  the  school 
subscriptions  to  games  and  so  forth,  telling  Candidus  that 
such  had  been  the  wish  of  the  Duke,  and  that  no  one 
need  be  aware  of  it.  Florian,  on  the  other  hand,  gave 
him  presents — which,  though  of  greater  value,  he  was 
far  more  reluctant  to  accept — that  he  might  begin  his 
school  life  as  well  equipped  as  his  comrades  with  the 
luxuries  and  indulgences  which  were  open  to  their 
wealth.  And  Florian  was  thrown  much  more  with 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  309 

Candidus  than  his  brother  was  ;  for  the  boy  happened 
to  be  placed  in  the  same  house,  class-room,  and 
dormitory  as  himself.  The  houses  at  the  school  were 
distinguished  by  the  names  of  different  colours,  and 
this  (as  we  have  seen)  was  known  as  the  Blue  House. 
In  this  class-room  and  dormitory  Trypho  too  had  a 
place,  and  Trypho  also  was  anxious  to  insinuate  himself 
into  the  good  graces  of  a  boy  who  was  evidently  of  no 
ordinary  stamp. 

But  Candidus  seemed  to  possess  an  inherent 
power,  which  he  could  not  in  the  least  explain,  of 
knowing  whom  he  might,  and  whom  he  might  not 
trust.  The  secret  really  lay  in  a  little  mirror  which 
Alciphron  had  given  to  him,  and  taught  him  how  to  use. 
This  magic  mirror  had  a  power  of  retaining  the 
likenesses  of  those  wrho  had  ever  been  reflected  in  it ; 
and  it  showed  them  not  as  they  tried  to  appear,  but  as 
they  really  were.  In  this  mirror  the  face  of  the 
beautiful  Florian  lost  all  its  best  beauty,  and  assumed  a 
look  of  slyness,  which  Candidus  disliked ;  but  as  for 
Trypho,  his  image  in  the  mirror — though  he  was  a 
good-looking  fellow — was  positively  ugly  and  repel- 
lent. Candidus  was  always  courteous  to  Trypho, 
who  was  much  above  him  in  the  school,  and 
considerably  older  than  himself.  He  never  treated 
him  with  any  coldness  which  could  be  resented  or 
taken  hold  of ;  but  yet  Trypho  felt  that  the  young 
new-comer  did  succeed  in  rejecting  his  overtures  alike  of 
friendship  and  of  patronage,  and  did,  in  some  quite 
indescribable  way,  keep  him  at  a  distance.  For  a  time 


310  ALLEGORIES 

he  tried  to  get  rid  of  the  impression.  But  when  he 
wholly  failed  to  secure  more  than  civility  from  one 
who  was  of  much  humbler  rank  than  his  own,  and 
in  a  far  lower  position  in  the  school,  and  also  a  new 
comer,  his  cordiality  was  changed  into  something  like 
hatred.  He  began  to  stigmatise  Candidus  as  '  a  saint ' 
and  '  a  prig,'  to  call  him  by  opprobrious  or  jeering  nick- 
names, and  to  encourage  other  boys  to  mimic  and  to 
deride  him.  This  was  a  serious  trial  to  Candidus  ;  for 
Trypho,  being  an  influential  youth,  gave  the  tone  to 
many,  and  Candidus  was  shy  and  sensitive.  The  lad's 
temptation  was  to  be  afraid  of  '  the  pointed  finger,' 
when  he  would  have  been  too  brave  to  shrink  from 
'  the  shaken  fist.' 

And  the  worst  of  it  was  that  Florian  too,  apparently 
for  similar  reasons,  soon  seemed  to  Candidus  to  have 
turned  distinctly  against  him.  At  first  Florian  had 
lavished  attentions  and  kindnesses  upon  him  ;  but  the 
character  of  Candidus  was  too  transparent  to  render  it 
possible  for  him  to  conceal  his  thoughts,  or  to  show 
anything  like  affection  and  confidence  when  he  did  not 
feel  them.  And  these  he  could  not  feel  when  he  looked 
from  Florian  himself  to  his  reflection  in  the  magic 
mirror.  He  knew  that  he  owed  to  Duke  Altus  all  the 
advantages,  present  and  prospective,  of  his  education 
at  the  great  Porphyrian  school ;  and  Florian  might 
naturally  have  expected  that  a  boy  so  deeply  indebted 
to  his  father,  and  the  son  of  one  of  the  Duke's 
dependents,  would  show  some  deference  to  him.  Yet, 
so  far  from  returning  the  regard  which  Florian  really 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  311 

felt,  and  so  far  from  exhibiting  any  sign  of  gratitude  or 
affection,  Candidus — whose  face  always  brightened 
when  Ardens  spoke  to  him,  although  Ardens  did  not 
make  half  so  much  of  him — seemed  unable  to  respond 
with  any  warmth  to  the  caressing  and  patronising 
kindness  of  Florian.  Without  a  single  overt  act  or 
word,  Candidus  left  on  the  mind  of  Florian  the 
impression  that  the  new  boy  distrusted  and  held  aloof 
from  him. 

But  what  puzzled  them  a  little  was  that  Candidus 
never  seemed  to  have  the  same  shrinking  from  Facilis. 
The  reason  was  that  though  in  the  mirror  the  face  of 
Facilis  was  a  little  dim  and  blurred,  yet  it  showed 
nothing  which  caused  the  least  distrust  in  the  new 
boy's  mind. 

It  was  a  sad  truth  that  both  Trypho  and  Florian, 
far  more  than  Facilis,  and  not  in  mere  weakness,  but  from 
arrant  and  arrogant  wilfulness,  had  become  renegades 
from  those  laws  which  alone  can  make  life  happy  or 
noble.  They  disowned  their  duties  to  their  true  Lord 
and  King.  They  felt  in  their  hearts  the  brand  of 
servitude  to  the  basilisk.  However  much  they  might 
brazen  it  out  among  their  companions,  and  however 
much  they  might  profess  to  boast  of  their  freedom, 
they  knew  that  their  bondage  was  a  miserable  thing. 
This  secret  disquietude,  together  with  the  venomous 
atmosphere  caused  by  the  proximity  of  the  crowned 
serpent,  was  constantly  impelling  them  to  save  any 
fragment  of  their  own  self-respect  by  entangling  as 
many  others  as  they  could  into  similar  apostasy.  It 


312  ALLEGORIES 

would  have  been  some  consolation  to  them,  in  the 
consciousness  of  their  own  fall,  if  they  could  have 
made  such  a  boy  as  Candidus  a  traitor  to  all  that 
is  best.  The  destiny  of  Candidus  had  thrown  him 
into  the  midst  of  the  bad  set  of  boys,  who  wore  the 
badge  of  Elyon's  enemy ;  and  they  were  deter- 
mined, if  they  could,  to  make  him  like  themselves,  if 
not  by  willing  acceptance  of  their  influence,  then  by 
cruelty  and  force.  And  outside  this  set  of  bad  boys 
no  one  knew  of  this,  for  to  be  '  a  sneak '  or  '  a  tell-tale  ' 
was  to  violate  all  the  Ten  Commandments  of  their 
schoolboy  morality.  It  was  branded  among  them  with 
such  disgrace,  and  enforced  by  the  threat  of  penalties 
so  serious,  that  a  boy  would  bear  almost  any  extremes 
of  anguish  rather  than  seek  deliverance  by  revealing 
his  sufferings  to  others. 

So  poor  little  Candidus  fell  on  evil  days  and  evil 
tongues,  long  before  he  was  old  enough  to  understand 
that  there  may  be  a  beatitude  in  malediction.  Of 
course  the  boys  of  his  house  and  dormitory  were 
supposed  to  know  him  best.  If  they  chose  to  cut  him, 
to  sneer  at  him,  to  leave  him  out  of  their  games  and 
gatherings,  and  to  stigmatise  him  as  '  a  low-born 
cad '  and  '  a  surly  conceited  puppy ' — other  boys 
in  the  school,  fancying  that  there  must  be  some 
ground  for  this  bad  opinion,  and  not  being  thrown 
enough  into  the  lad's  company  to  understand  him 
aright,  took  little  or  no  notice  of  him,  and  regarded 
him  as  a  failure.  In  consequence  of  this  the  boy 
became  so  disheartened  that  all  his  natural  charm 


THE   BASILISK    AND    THE   LEOPAED  313 

of  character  was  overshadowed.  His  face,  once  so 
bright,  began  to  wear  an  expression  of  weary  sadness. 
Even  the  energy  with  which  he  would,  under  more 
favourable  conditions,  have  shown  his  intellectual 
ability  was  so  far  damped  that  the  masters  also— 
though  they  saw  how  faithfully  he  tried  to  do  his 
duty,  were  disappointed  of  their  original  hope  that 
they  would  find  in  him  one  of  the  most  promising  of 
their  pupils. 

Alone,  and  almost  friendless,  yet  steadfast  in  his 
resolution  that  nothing  should  induce  him  to  do  any- 
thing but  show  his  abhorrence  for  the  basilisk  and  all 
his  ways,  Candidus  bitterly  rued  the  ambitious  hopes 
which  had  led  his  father  to  accept  the  offer  of  Duke 
Altus.  At  last  he  became  so  unendurably  miserable 
that  he  wrote  home  and  entreated  his  father,  at  all 
costs,  to  take  him  away.  At  home  he  had  met  with 
care,  and  moral  guidance,  and  tender  love ;  there 
everything  around  him  was  sweet  and  wholesome  and 
pure  ;  but  here  at  school  he  was  in  a  new  and  evil 
world.  He  would  not  tell,  even  to  his  father,  all  the 
sources  of  his  misery  and  disquietude,  but  he  begged 
him,  by  the  love  he  bore  him,  to  remove  him  from 
school  at  once. 

The  father  of  Candidus,  to  whom  his  boy  was  as 
the  apple  of  his  eye,  was  pained  by  this  unexpected 
letter,  and  took  it  to  his  patron  for  advice.  But  the 
Duke  was  disposed  to  make  light  of  it. 

'  Your  boy,'  he  said,  '  is  a  little  homesick,  that  is  all. 
He  will  soon  get  over  it.  I  knew  an  exactly  similar 


314  ALLEGORIES 

case,  where  the  father  simply  wrote  back  to  encourage 
and  cheer  up  his  son,  and  in  a  short  time  the  boy 
became  a  passionately  enthusiastic  supporter  of  the 
school,  from  which  he  had  once  implored  his  father  to 
take  him  away.' 

The  father  accepted  the  advice  of  his  kind-hearted 
landlord,  and  wrote  a  very  loving  letter  to  his  son 
whose  unhappiness  had  made  his  heart  bleed.  At  the 
same  time  the  Duke  himself  wrote  a  letter  to  Ardens 
asking  him  to  find  out,  if  he  could,  what  made  Candidus 
so  miserable,  and  whether  his  hatred  of  the  school  was 
due  to  any  fault  of  his  own. 

So,  one  holiday  afternoon,  when  all  the  boys  were 
streaming  out  to  their  games,  Ardens  purposely  stayed 
behind  to  look  for  Candidus.  He  saw  that  he  had  not 
gone  up  to  the  playing  fields  with  the  rest  of  his  house. 
This  showed  him  that  there  was  something  wrong, 
and  that  his  poor  little  friend  was  being  practically 
boycotted  by  his  companions.  But  knowing  that  the 
Blue  House  did  not  bear  the  best  reputation,  Ardens 
looked  on  the  isolation  of  his  young  protege  rather  as  a 
testimony  to  his  merits  than  as  a  sign  that  there  was 
any  fault  in  his  character. 

As  he  expected,  he  found  Candidus  wandering  alone 
by  the  edge  of  the  forest,  looking  unspeakably  sad, 
longing  for  home,  indignant  at  the  injustice  with 
which  he  was  treated.  His  heart  was  beginning  to  fail 
him  at  the  soreness  of  the  battle  which  he  was  called 
upon  to  fight  in  behalf  of  righteousness  and  allegiance 
to  all  that  he  knew  to  be  best. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  315 

Ardens  came  up  to  him  almost  unperceived,  and 
said,  '  All  alone,  Candidus  ?  Why  don't  you  go  up  to 
the  games  with  the  rest?  You  must  not  mope  like 
this.' 

'  I  wish  they  would  let  me  join  in  the  games,  Ardens,' 
he  said. 

'  Why  won't  they  let  you  ?  ' 

'  They  don't  like  me,'  said  Candidus,  looking  on  the 
ground. 

'  Why  ?  ' 

He  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  at  Ardens,  and  even 
in  that  honest  glance  Ardens  saw  that  Candidus,  at  any 
rate,  had  nothing  for  which  to  blush. 

'  I  see,'  said  Ardens  ;  *  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  tales 
out  of  school !  But,'  he  added,  '  come  up  to  the  field 
with  me,  Candidus ;  I  will  bowl  to  you,  and  to-day,  at 
any  rate,  you  shall  have  some  good  exercise.' 

Candidus  turned  to  him  with  a  look  of  deep  gratitude, 
for  at  that  moment  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  in  his 
mirror,  and  in  the  magic  crystal  the  face  of  Ardens 
was  as  the  face  of  an  angel. 

Ardens  took  him  kindly  by  the  arm ;  and  for  many 
weeks  Candidus — ever  since  Trypho  and  Florian  began 
to  turn  their  backs  on  him  and  discountenance  him — 
had  been  so  lonely  and  so  wretched,  that  even  the 
little  word  of  sympathy  and  touch  of  kindness  moved 
his  burdened  heart,  and,  unable  to  help  it,  he  turned 
his  face  away  to  hide  his  tears. 

Ardens  was  hardly  less  moved,  and  was  at  the  same 
time  deeply  indignant  to  think  that  his  young  school- 


316  ALLEGORIES 

fellow  should  have  been  so  unjustly  treated.  He  put 
his  arm  round  the  shoulder  of  Candidus,  and  was 
walking  with  him  towards  the  playing  field,  when  he 
heard  a  loud  and  insulting 

1  Ahem  ! ' 

Ardens  turned  round  angrily  to  the  speaker,  and  saw 
Trypho  with  several  younger  boys  about  him,  each  of 
whom  had  a  broad  grin  on  his  face. 

'What  do  you  mean  by  saying  "  Ahem  !  "  ? '  he 
asked,  confronting  Trypho. 

'I  shall  say  "Ahem!  "as  much  as  ever  I  choose/ 
answered  Trypho  sardonically,  while  his  little  group  of 
admirers  giggled  their  applause. 

Ardens  was  conscious  of  the  hot  surge  of  passion 
which  mounted  to  his  forehead  and  seemed  to  dilate 
his  whole  frame.  He  felt  madly  inclined  to  spring  into 
the  midst  of  the  group,  scatter  them  in  every  direction, 
fling  some  of  them  to  the  ground,  and  then  assault 
Trypho  with  all  his  force.  His  enemy  the  leopard, 
always  watchful  for  his  opportunity,  was  again  crouched 
for  a  spring  upon  him ;  but  at  the  moment  his  arm 
pressed  against  the  sword  hidden  under  his  robe,  and, 
grasping  the  cross  hilt,  he  collected  and  controlled  him- 
self. Instead  of  rushing  at  Trypho  he  forced  himself 
into  calmness,  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
turned  his  back  on  him. 

*  Come  along,  Candidus,'  he  said ;  '  never  mind 
these  cads.' 

They  went  together  to  the  fields,  and  for  once 
Candidus  had  a  good,  manly,  healthy  game,  and  there 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  317 

dawned  in  his  heart  once  more  a  little  natural  happiness. 
But  Ardens  felt  most  uneasy  about  him,  and  determined 
to  speak  to  Florian,  of  whom,  in  spite  of  his  wish,  he 
had  seen  very  little  since  the  term  began. 

'  Florian,'  he  said,  '  I  am  terribly  sorry  for  poor  little 
Candidus.  Father  more  or  less  entrusted  him  to  our 
charge.  Why  do  you  fellows  all  cut  him  ?  Why  are 
you  all  so  unkind  and  so  unjust  to  him?  ' 

'  He  is  nothing  to  me,'  said  Florian  coldly.  '  I 
wanted  to  notice  him,  and  be  kind  to  him,  but  his 
highness  is  such  a  conceited  little  prig  that  it  is 
impossible  to  get  on  with  him.' 

'  Conceited  ?  A  prig  ?  '  said  Ardens.  '  I  never  saw 
a  more  modest  and  charming  little  fellow.' 

'  He  may  do  for  the  saints  among  whom  you  move,' 
said  Florian  with  assumed  contempt.  '  He  does  not 
suit  us.' 

'  So  much  the  worse  for  you,'  said  Ardens.  '  I  wish 
to  heaven  I  could  get  him  out  of  your  detestable  house. 
It  is  a  long  way  the  worst  house  in  the  school.  I 
believe  the  whole  lot  of  you  are  thoroughly  bad 
fellows.' 

'  Mind  your  own  business,'  answered  Florian  in  as 
cutting  a  tone  as  he  dared  assume.  '  Hallo,  Trypho  !  ' 
he  shouted,  as  he  saw  his  friend  in  the  distance,  '  come 
and  deliver  me  from  the  lectures  of  my  sweet-tempered 
and  immaculate  brother.' 

Ardens  was  too  much  grieved  to  be  angry  ;  but  on 
the  days  that  followed,  he  kept  an  eye  on  Candidus, 
and  feared  from  what  he  saw  that  things  were  getting 


318  ALLEGORIES 

worse  and  worse.  One  day  he  heard  a  cry  from  one  of 
the  class-rooms  as  he  passed,  and,  recognising  the  voice 
of  his  young  friend,  violated  all  schoolboy  etiquette  by 
going  straight  into  the  room,  though  it  did  not  belong  to 
his  own  house.  The  sight  he  saw  filled  him  with  rage. 
At  the  end  of  the  room  stood  Candidus  by  himself  ;  a 
few  yards  from  him  were  a  dozen  or  more  boys,  mostly 
older  than  he  was — and  among  them  were  Trypho's 
special  admirers,  Ehodon,  Cyprius,  and  Thallus — who 
were  amusing  themselves  by  '  baiting '  him.  The 
'  baiting '  consisted  in  calling  him  nicknames,  mimick- 
ing his  every  look  and  his  slightest  movement,  making 
insulting  noises  and  gestures,  and  flinging  at  him 
books,  balls,  and  whatever  came  nearest  to  hand.  Even 
amid  surroundings  so  wretched  the  persecuted  boy 
maintained  something  of  his  natural  dignity.  Ardens 
could  not  help  noticing  to  himself  that  all  the  noble- 
ness was  with  Candidus,  and  that  it  was  the  group  of 
his  tormentors  who  looked  disreputable  and  even  abject. 

But  Ardens  felt  most  thoroughly  ashamed  of  the 
Porphyrian  boys  who  had  sunk  so  low  as  to  behave 
with  such  cruel  baseness  to  a  new  comer,  and  to  one  so 
blameless  as  his  little  friend. 

'  Stop  that, 'you  unspeakable  curs  !  '  he  said. 

The  boys  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  Here  was 
a  boy  who  did  not  belong  to  their  house,  and  yet  had 
the  audacity  to  come  uninvited  into  their  class-room, 
and  to  interfere  with  their  proceedings,  and  to  speak  to 
them  like  that !  They  looked  threateningly  at  Ardens, 
but  he  stood  there  so  contemptuous  and  so  determined, 


THE    BASILISK    AND   THE   LEOPARD  319 

evidently  so  entirely  undismayed  by  their  numbers,  that 
they  thought  discretion  the  better  part  of  valour.  One 
of  them,  however — Trypho's  chief  supporter,  Thallus— 
ventured  to  say : 

'  You  be !  Who  are  you  ?  '  And  to  show  his 

defiance  he  flung  another  book  at  Candidus. 

Instantly  Ardens  strode  up  to  him  and  slapped  him 
in  the  face.  It  was  a  good  hard  buffet,  and  made  him 
wince  and  whimper.  The  others  began  to  hoot  at 
Ardens,  and  Cyprius  shouted : 

'  You  beastly  coward  ! ' 

'  Coward,'  answered  Ardens  scornfully.  '  You  are 
a  dozen  and  I  am  one.  It  is  you  who  are  the  cowards.' 

'  You  would  not  dare  to  hector  like  this  if  Trypho 
were  here,'  said  Cyprius. 

'  Wouldn't  I  ?  '  said  Ardens.  '  Go  and  call  him  !  I 
shall  stay  here,  in  spite  of  you  all,  till  he  comes,  and  if 
one  of  you  touches  Candidus  again,  he  shall  get  worse 
than  the  last  bully  got.' 

Khodon  and  Cyprius  ran  out  and  called  Trypho,  who 
came  striding  in,  and  was  in  a  towering  passion. 

'  Get  out  of  this  ! '  he  said  to  Ardens.  '  What  right 
have  you  to  come  sneaking  and  spying  into  our  class- 
room ?  ' 

Ardens  sternly  resolved  to  keep  his  temper,  so  he 
answered  quite  calmly,  *  I  am  neither  sneaking  nor 
spying.  As  I  was  accidentally  passing,  I  heard 
Candidus  cry  out,  and  I  came  in  to  save  him  from  being 
bullied.' 

'  It  is  no  affair  of  yours.' 


320  ALLEGORIES 

'  It  is  an  affair  of  mine.  He  is  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  of  my  father's ;  and  you ' — he  suppressed  the 
contemptuous  words  which  sprang  to  his  lips — '  you  are 
making  him  wretched  because  he  is  a  better  fellow  than 
yourself.' 

'  No  sermons  here !  '  said  Trypho,  strong  in  the 
number  of  his  adherents.  '  If  you  don't  get  out  of  this 
at  once,  you  shall  be  kicked  out.' 

'  Kicked  out  ?  '  said  Ardens  scornfully.  '  I  should 
like  to  see  any  three  of  you  do  it.' 

Trypho  was  both  older  and  bigger  than  Ardens,  and 
said,  '  I  will  turn  you  out  myself.' 

1  Try  it ! ' 

Trypho  struck  him,  and,  the  moment  after,  a  hard 
fight  began  between  them.  Ardens  got  some  heavy 
blows,  but  he  felt  thrice  armed  in  the  justice  of  his 
cause.  Indignation  against  Trypho,  in  whom  he 
recognised  the  source  of  the  worst  influences  on  his 
brother's  life,  seemed  to  inspire  him  with  unwonted 
strength,  and  after  a  time  it  became  clear  that  his 
adversary  could  not  hold  out  much  longer  against  so 
hardy  and  plucky  an  antagonist.  After  a  few  rounds 
he  knocked  Trypho  down,  but  thereupon  the  rest  set 
upon  him,  pinioned  him,  and  by  sheer  force  thrust  him 
out  of  the  room.  At  the  door  he  met  Florian. 

'  He's  been  sneaking,  and  spying,  and  hectoring 
here,'  said  Thallus  in  answer  to  Florian 's  astonished 
look. 

1  It's  a  lie,  Florian,'  said  Ardens. 

1  It  isn't,'  shouted  Trypho  from  inside  the  room. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  321 

1  Haven't  you  had  enough  yet,  Trypho  ? '  said 
Ardens  with  contempt.  '  Would  you  like  to  fight  me 
again,  or  shall  I  come  and  give  you  a  second  thrashing  ?  ' 

Florian  did  not  like  this  discomfiture  of  his  house 
and  of  his  coadjutor. 

'  Anyhow,  you  had  no  business  here,'  he  said  to  his 
brother. 

'  I  disdain  to  jangle  about  it,'  said  Ardens  ;  '  but 
Candidus  at  least  shall  be  saved  from  this  detestable 
set  of  yours,  if  I  can  do  anything.'  And  so  saying  he 
strode  away ;  and  all  the  Caeruleans  could  not  help 
feeling  that,  physically  no  less  than  morally,  he  had 
got  much  the  best  of  it. 


XII 

.  0  ur  acts  our  angels  are — or  good  or  ill, 

Our  fatal  shadows  that  walk  by  us  still. 

FLETCHER. 

AND  now  things  might  at  once  have  become  worse  than 
ever  for  Candidus,  but  the  house  for  its  own  reasons 
made  it  a  point  of  honour  to  keep  its  own  secrets.  No 
law,  as  I  have  said,  was  more  strenuously  inculcated 
and  insisted  on  among  all  new  comers  than  that  they 
should  keep  themselves  to  themselves,  make  the  house- 
life  the  first  consideration,  and  never  talk  about  its 
affairs  or  its  doings  to  boys  in  other  houses.  It  was 
for  this  reason  that  the  boys  tried  always  to  mould 
and  assimilate  every  new  comer,  They  very  rarely 


322  ALLEGORIES 

failed  to  do  this.  The  large  majority  of  Porphyrian 
boys— not  all,  thank  heaven  ! — like  the  chameleon, 
assumed  their  colour  from  their  immediate  surround- 
ings. Years  had  passed  since  any  boy  had  shown 
himself  sufficiently  strong  and  resolute  to  follow  his 
own  secret  sense  of  duty,  to  do  right  and  shame  the 
devil.  The  Caeruleans  were  provoked  and  thwarted  by 
the  uncompromising  resistance  of  Candidus  to  their 
evil  tone  of  morals,  and  by  his  undisguised  horror  of 
their  lord  the  basilisk.  Since  violence  had  failed  to 
subdue  his  spirit,  they  once  more  tried  an  insidious 
kindness.  They  no  longer  cut  him.  They  spoke 
cordially  to  him,  they  asked  him  to  join  in  their 
games,  in  which  he  soon  began  to  distinguish  him- 
self :  but  neither  they  nor  their  leaders  relinquished 
the  intention  of  bringing  him  into  line  with  the 
bad  traditions  of  the  house ;  and  in  that  matter  they 
felt  that  they  gained  no  ground.  •  \ 

In  spite  alike  of  cruel  persecution  and  of  treacherous 
cordiality,  Candidus  fought  the  better  fight,  and  main- 
tained singly  the  course  of  rectitude  : 

Amid  innumerable  false,  unmoved, 
Unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified, 
His  loyalty  he  kept,  his  faith,  his  love. 

Trypho  was  specially  alarmed  and  indignant,  and 
spoke  to  Florian,  who,  having  hardened  his  heart,  had 
made  himself  the  chief  supporter  of  his  bad  friend. 
Florian  was  further  stimulated  by  a  sort  of  personal 
pique  that  Candidus  should  show  himself  braver  and 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  323 

better  than  he  himself  had  been.  He  sought  out 
Candidus  and  said,  '  You  are  getting  on  a  little  better 
with  the  fellows,  aren't  you,  Candidus  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  Florian.' 

'  And  more  ready  to  fall  into  our  ways  ?  ' 

Candidus  kicked  the  turf  with  his  foot,  looked  down, 
and  said  nothing. 

'  Why  not  ?  '  asked  Florian. 

'  They  are  always  talking  to  me  about  the  basilisk  ; 
I  hate  the  reptile ;  he  is  the  enemy  of  Ely  on.' 

'  Pooh  ! '  said  Florian,  '  there  isn't  the  least  reason 
to  be  so  squeamish.  The  basilisk  will  do  you  no  harm, 
any  more  than  it  has  done  me.' 

Candidus  lifted  up  his  bright  innocent  eyes,  and  in 
their  transparent  clearness  Florian  read  the  question 
which  the  boy  had  not  spoken  :  '  Has  it  done  you  no 
harm,  Florian  ? ' 

'  Don't  be  impudent,'  he  said  fretfully,  '  or  I'll 
thrash  you.' 

'  What  ?  '  asked  Candidus  in  surprise  ;  '  I  said 
nothing.' 

'  No  !  but  you  thought  something.' 

'  Are  not  my  thoughts  to  be  my  own  ?  ' 

'  I  hate  you,  Candidus,  I  fairly  hate  you,'  exclaimed 
Florian  with  petulant  wrath,  not  knowing  whether  in 
his  heart  he  did  not  really  love  and  admire  him,  or 
whether  he  did  indeed  detest  him. 

'  I  am  sorry,  Florian,  if  you  do.  But  I  cannot  help 
your  hating  me.  I  have  done  nothing  to  make  you 
hate  me.  Have  you  tried  to  do  me  no  harm  ?  Are 

Y   2 


324  ALLEGORIES 

you  not  trying  to  harm  me  now  ?  Would  you 
make  me  as — as  so  many  are — and  do  you  want  the 
Evil  One  to  leave  his  brand  on  me  as  he  has  on  ' — he 
was  going  to  say  '  on  you,'  but  he  stopped  short. 

Florian  stamped  his  foot,  struck  Candidus  a  con- 
temptuous blow,  and  left  him  with  the  words,  '  You  are 
a  hopeless  little  hypocrite,  and  I  detest  you,  and  I  wish 
you'd  never  come  to  bother  us  and  lecture  us  here.  We 
were  far  happier  without  you,  and  got  on  far  better.' 


XIII 

Super  aspidem  et  basiliscum  ambulabis. — Ps.  xc.  18. 

He  who  hath  felt  the  Spirit  of  the  Highest 
Cannot  confound,  or  doubt  Him,  or  defy  ; 

Yea,  with  one  voice,  0  world,  though  thou  deniest, 
Stand  thou  on  that  side,  for  on  this  am  I. 

F.  MYEKS,  St.  Paul. 

FLOEIAN  told  Trypho  that  he  had  failed,  and  Trypho 
said,  '  But  we  won't  fail ;  one  weak  boy  sha'n't  beat  us. 
He  shall  be  subdued  this  very  night.' 

That  afternoon,  Florian,  Trypho,  and  the  other 
leaders  of  the  house  announced  that  as  the  master  was 
going  to  be  absent  from  home  they  would  have  a 
rough  extempore  feast  in  the  big  dormitory.  It  was  the 
one  in  which  Candidus  slept. 

The  master  of  the  house  was  a  man  entirely 
unsuited  to  his  position,  who  did  not  understand  the 
nature  of  boys,  nor  take  any  adequate  care  of  their: 
moral  welfare.  He  neglected  them,  and  left  them  to 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  325 

themselves.  The  servants  were  a  bad  corrupt  lot, 
bribed  to  silence  and  connivance.  They  were  in  the 
power  of  the  boys,  and  the  boys  in  their  power.  The 
Caeruleans  held  their  feast  that  night  secure  from  any 
disturbance,  and  many  boys  drank  much  more  wine 
than  was  good  for  them.  They  purposely  turned  their 
talk  upon  the  subject  of  the  basilisk  and  his  splendours, 
and  at  last  Trypho  proposed  a  toast  to  '  our  lord  the 
basilisk,'  which  all  were  to  drink  standing. 

Candidus  remained  seated. 

'  Stand,  or  it  shall  be  the  worse  for  you,'  said  several 
boys. 

Still  he  would  not  move  ;  and  when  the  rest  had 
drunk  the  toast,  Trypho,  seizing  him,  said,  '  This  must 
and  shall  end.  Now,  for  the  last  time,  will  you  be  like 
the  rest  of  us,  and  drink,  or —  —  ?  ' 

'  I  will  not  drink,'  answered  Candidus  in  a  low  voice 
and  very  quietly. 

'  You  shall,'  said  Trypho.     '  Seize  him  ! ' 

Several  boys  seized  him,  held  him  down,  violently 
forced  his  mouth  open,  and  poured  the  wine  down  his 
throat. 

'  Now,  will  you  wear  the  badge  as  we  all  do  ?  ' 

'  Never  !  '  said  Candidus  indignantly.  '  I  loathe,  I 
abhor  the  monster.  I  am  Elyon's  son,  and  to  the  best 
of  my  power  I  will  do  nothing  which  would  degrade 
me  and  offend  him.' 

The  words  '  degrade  me  '  stung  Florian  to  the  quick, 
and  made  him  feel  beside  himself. 

'  Degrade  you  ?  '  he  said  with  a  sneer  ;  *  it  would  not 


326  ALLEGORIES 

take  much  to  degrade  you.  You  are  a  mere  clodhopper, 
the  son  of  a  small  farmer,  and  it  is  my  father  who  pays 
for  your  school  expenses.' 

The  moment  he  had  blurted  out  this  contemptible 
taunt,  Florian  felt  the  disgrace  of  having  sunk  so  low  as 
to  utter  it,  and  his  cheek  burned  when  Candidus  turned 
on  him  his  quiet  gaze,  though  he  said  nothing.  But 
Facilis  did  pluck  up  courage  to  say  something. 

'  0  Florian,'  he  whispered,  '  for  shame  !  you  ought 
not  to  have  said  that.' 

'  I  know  I  ought  not,'  said  Florian  peevishly,  '  but 
that  creeping  humbug  transports  me  out  of  myself 
with  his  saintly  airs.' 

'  Do  you  really  think  him  a  humbug,  Florian  ?  It 
might  have  been  better  for  you  and  for  me  if  we  had 
been  as  good  and  true  as  he  has  shown  himself  to  be.' 

'  Hang  him  ! '  said  Florian  ;  '  I  hate  him.' 

But  the  boys  again  seized  Candidus  and  held  him 
fast.  Resistance  was  of  course  hopeless  against  so 
many,  all  of  whom  were  older  and  stronger  than  him- 
self. Trypho  and  Florian  tied  and  twisted  round  his 
neck  a  strong  gilded  cord  to  which  was  attached  the 
green  and  gleaming — but  to  Candidus  inconceivably 
detestable — image  of  the  demon  serpent. 

While  this  was  being  done  the  others  were  roaring 
with  laughter ;  especially  when  Candidus,  the  moment 
that  his  hands  were  free,  tore  and  tugged  at  the  detes- 
table symbol,  but  was  unable  to  break  it  from  his  neck, 
and  at  last,  overcome  by  the  intensity  of  his  feelings, 
grew  very  pale,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAKD  327 

A  few  of  the  Caeruleans  began  to  sympathise  with 
him,  and  wished  that  they  had  once  shown  the  same 
noble  courage.  Facilis,  deeply  pitying  him,  though  he 
was  too  weak  openly  to  take  his  part,  secretly  pressed  his 
hand,  and  gave  him  an  open  knife.  With  this  Candidus 
cut  the  cord,  and  flung  the  badge  indignantly  in 
Trypho's  face.  The  sharp  edge  of  it  cut  his  cheek. 
Transported  to  fury,  Trypho  seized  him,  thrashed 
him  unmercifully,  and  ordered  the  rest  to  make  him 
run  the  gauntlet  between  two  rows  of  them,  and  to 
kick  him,  and  beat  him  with  their  fists  and  tightly 
knotted  handkerchiefs,  and  even  with  canes  and  sticks 
as  he  ran. 

Florian  had  fallen  into  such  complete  degradation 
that  he  could  take  part  in  such  a  scene  and  not  inter- 
fere !  Nay,  more — furious  with  shame  at  his  own 
unworthiness — he  himself  struck  the  boy  hard  with  a 
knotted  handkerchief. 

Very  few  abstained  from  having  a  share  in  this 
cruelty.  Facilis  was  one  of  them.  He  stood  there 
with  his  arms  folded,  a  picture  of  sadness.  But,  alas  ! 
he  looked  on  and  said  nothing. 

Bruised,  beaten,  trembling,  but  still  unsubdued, 
Candidus  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  one  of  the  beds,  and 
Trypho  held  a  hurried  whispered  conversation  with  the 
other  leaders.  They  determined  to  take  the  desperate 
step  of  invoking  the  presence  of  the  basilisk  himself, 
that  so  he  might  strike  into  Candidus  the  mortal  poison 
of  his  glance. 

To  Facilis  this  seemed  so  utterly  inexcusable  that  he 


328  ALLEGOKIES 

ventured,  though  timidly,  to  raise  his  voice  against  it. 
But  his  opposition  was  only  met  by  scorn  and  laughter. 

'  Make  a  square  round  this  obstinate  young  cad,' 
said  Trypho.  '  Now,  lads,  look  out,  for  some  one  will  be 
here  directly.' 

Then  they  secretly  invoked  the  baleful  demon.  The 
air  became  thick  as  with  intoxicating  and  deadly  per- 
fume, and  suddenly  out  of  a  lurid  mist  they  saw  flashes 
as  of  golden  scales,  until  the  evil  creature  was  in  the 
midst  of  them,  gliding  up  to  Candidus,  hissing,  rearing 
its  crested  head,  transfixing  him  with  the  glance  of  its 
burning  eyes. 

But,  to  the  amazement  of  all,  so  far  from  being 
infected  by  the  demon's  magic  spell,  or  in  the  least 
frightened  by  its  menacing  paws  and  dragon  glare, 
the  mere  presence  of  the  creature  seemed  to  cause 
Candidus  to  summon  the  whole  strength  of  his  reso- 
lution. He  stood  absolutely  unmoved.  No  tremor 
passed  through  him.  His  countenance  resumed  its 
natural  hue.  He  cast  one  glance  upwards,  folded  his 
hands  together,  and  then,  confronting  the  basilisk  with 
dauntless  mien,  said  with  a  voice  which  rang  with 
scorn  : 

'  Hateful  fiend,  in  Elyon's  name  I  bid  thee  avaunt  !  ' 

And  lo !  no  sooner  were  the  words  uttered  than 
a  yell  was  heard,  and  the  creature  vanished  in 
flame  and  smoke,  defeated  by  a  child,  leaving  a  sense 
of  shame  and  horror  in  the  hearts  of  all  its  helpless 
votaries. 

In  the  confusion  which  ensued,  two  things  happened. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD 


329 


First,  Candidus,  worn  out  by  physical  pain — for  he  had 
been  severely  maltreated — and  by  the  stress  of  intense 


'  IN  ELYON'S  NAME  i  BID  THEE  AVAUNT  ! '  , 

feeling,  and  by  the  unwonted  strangeness  of  what  had 
occurred,  fainted  away.     He  would  have  fallen  on  the 


330  ALLEGORIES 

floor  if  Facilis  had  not  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and 
gently  laid  him  on  his  own  bed. 

Next,  the  door  was  flung  open,  and — unobserved 
amid  the  tumult — in  strode,  not  the  master  of  the 
House,  but  the  President  of  the  School.  He  was  a  man 
of  stern  aspect,  though  of  a  kind  heart,  whose  high 
authority  was  both  respected  and  feared.  Seeing 
lights  shining  so  late  at  night  in  the  large  dormitory, 
and  hearing  a  sound  of  many  voices,  as  he  passed 
through  the  garden  under  the  window,  he  felt  sure 
that  there  were  some  riotous  proceedings  on  foot 
among  the  boys,  and  had  come  in  person  to  see  what 
had  occurred. 

He  was  in  the  midst  of  the  group  of  excited  boys 
before  they  noticed  him.  When  they  saw  him  a  dead 
hush  fell  suddenly  upon  the  scene. 

*  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  disgraceful  disorder 
at  forbidden  hours  ?  ' 

No  one  answered. 

Then  he  caught  sight  of  Candidus  lying  on  his  bed, 
pale  as  death.  He  looked  with  the  deepest  pity  on  his 
pallid  features. 

1  What  is  the  matter  with  that  poor  little  fellow  ?  ' 
he  asked. 

'  He  has  fainted,  sir,'  said  Ehodon  timidly. 

'  Why  has  he  fainted  ?  what  have  you  been  doing 
to  him?  All  this  must  be  inquired  into.  There  is 
something  very  wrong  here.  I  have  always  had  my 
doubts  about  the  conduct  and  character  of  you  boys  in 
this  house.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  331 

He  looked  round  him,  and  as  his  eye  fell  on  each, 
they  grew  confused  and  wore  a  guilty  aspect.  They 
could  not  look  him  in  the  face. 

'  Ha !  I  see  you  have  been  holding  a  surreptitious 
feast,  and  drinking  wine.  But — what  is  that  on  the 
floor?  Trypho,  pick  it  up  and  bring  it  to  me.' 

He  pointed  to  the  badge  of  the  basilisk  which 
Candidus  had  flung  away.  Trj^pho  pretended  not  to 
see  it  while  he  tried  to  shove  it  away  with  his  foot. 

'  Bring  it  here  ! '  thundered  the  President.  '  How 
dare  you  attempt  to  disobey  ?  ' 

With  sheepish  reluctance  the  boy  brought  it.  The 
master  looked  at  it  with  disgust,  noticed  that  the  sharp 
edge  was  tinged  with  blood,  and  then  glanced  at  the 
cut  upon  Trypho's  cheek.  At  last,  with  horror,  it 
flashed  upon  him  what  it  was. 

'  Is  this  yours  ? — this  hateful  sign  of  apostasy  ?  ' 

'  No ! '  said  Trypho.  But,  like  the  rest  of  the 
boys,  he  had  thrown  off  his  upper  garment,  and  was 
unaware  that  the  badge  round  his  neck  was  partially 
exposed. 

'  Then  what  is  this  ? '  said  the  President,  plucking 
it  from  the  boy's  neck.  *  Oh,  shame  on  you,  shame, 
shame !  I  little  thought  that  boys  at  the  great  Por- 
phyrian  school  could  have  sunk  so  low  as  to  wear  the 
badge  of  the  basilisk.  What,  and  you  too,  Florian? 
And  you,  Facilis  ?  '  As  he  spoke  he  seized  the  badge 
round  the  neck  of  each  of  them  and  tore  it  away. 
'  Oh,  shame !  shame  !  To  your  beds,  you  renegades,' 
and,  seizing  a  rod,  he  laid  it  so  vigorously  on  the 


332  ALLEGORIES 

backs  of  one  after  another,  that  some  of  the  wretched 
offenders  actually  howled  as  they  fled. 

Grieved  beyond  expression  at  what  he  had  discovered, 
he  spoke  a  few  words  of  sternest  warning,  and  then 
turned  to  Candidus.  The  poor  boy  lay  half  conscious, 
and  between  his  moans  he  was  speaking  deliriously. 
The  President  observed  with  indignation  that  he  was 
bruised  all  over.  His  heart  ached  to  think  that  this 
boy,  so  nobly  attractive,  should  have  been  subjected  to 
such  treatment.  But  his  indignation  became  yet  more 
poignant  when  he  caught  the  purpose  of  the  broken 
sentences  which  he  spoke  in  his  delirium. 

The  next  morning  he  opened  a  most  searching  inquiry 
which  revealed  to  him  a  state  of  things  such  as  he  had 
never  suspected.  Thallus,  Ehodon,  Cyprius,  and  many 
other  boys  were  severely  flogged,  and  were  only  kept 
at  the  school  with  greatly  curtailed  privileges,  on  the 
promise  of  penitence  and  amendment.  Others  received 
very  stern  warnings  that  at  the  first  shadow  of  complaint 
against  them  they  would  be  ignominiously  dismissed, 
and  for  months  afterwards  they  were  deemed  unworthy 
of  confidence  or  liberty.  But  the  three  leaders,  Trypho, 
Florian,  and  Facilis,  were  expelled  from  the  school 
with  disgrace,  for  it  was  judged  that  they  had  violated 
the  trust  reposed  in  them  as  senior  boys  and  had  been 
dishonourable  promoters  of  the  disobedience  and  mis- 
conduct which  they  ought  to  have  been  the  first  to  sup- 
press to  the  utmost  of  their  power.  Trypho,  when  he 
went,  received  no  pity  at  all.  Even  the  Caeruleans, 
whose  ringleader  he  had  long  been,  were  glad  to  see  him 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  333 

go.  For  Florian,  some  felt  very  sorry,  remembering 
what  he  had  been  when  first  he  came  among  them  ; 
but  he  had  long  forfeited  the  respect  of  the  most  right- 
minded  boys.  It  was  poor  Facilis  whose  expulsion 
awoke  the  most  undisguised  sympathy.  He  was  the 
least  guilty  of  the  three,  and  he  felt  his  position 
the  most  acutely.  He  was  a  fatherless  boy,  but 
his  mother  was  living.  He  was  the  idol  of  her 
life.  However  deep  might  be  his  faults  and  errors, 
to  her  at  least  he  had  always  been  most  loyal  and 
most  loving.  He  feared  that  his  return  in  disgrace 
would  break  her  heart.  The  other  two,  as  they  said 
their  farewells,  tried  to  assume  an  almost  swaggering 
tone  of  indifference,  which  sat  particularly  ill  on  Florian 
and  pained  the  faithful  heart  of  his  brother.  Facilis  did 
not  even  attempt  to  seem  unmoved.  He  was  very 
silent.  Many  boys  wrung  his  hand  affectionately,  and 
tried  to  cheer  him  with  the  hope  of  better  things  here- 
after. '  Among  them  was  Ardens,  whose  heart  ached 
for  him,  and  little  Candidus,  who  also  pressed  his  hand 
and  whispered  a  few  words  of  affection  and  cheer. 
Their  kindly  sympathy  touched  him  to  the  very  depths 
of  his  soul.  Sadly  and  silently  he  returned  the  grasp 
of  their  hands  ;  he  dared  not  speak,  lest  he  should  break 
down ;  when  he  leant  back  his  head  in  the  carriage 
which  bore  him  away,  the  tears  were  coursing  each 
other  fast  down  his  cheeks. 

'  Don't    cry   as   if    you   were   a    great   baby,'   said 
Trypho  fiercely. 

1 1  have  a  mother  whose  heart  will  break  when  I 


334  ALLEGORIES 

see  her,'  said  Facilis,  turning  his  back  on  him.  '  And  as 
for  you,  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  you.' 

*  Never  mind,'  said  Florian,  who  sincerely  pitied 
him.  '  We  shall  think  nothing  of  it  a  year  hence.' 

'Ah  !  Florian,'  said  Facilis,  '  I  am  grieved  for  you 
as  well  as  for  myself.' 

The  three  boys  went  home. 

The  father  and  mother  of  Trypho  were  people  of 
wealth  and  fashion,  who  did  not  trouble  themselves 
greatly  about  their  son's  morals  so  long  as  he  did  not 
fall  short  of  their  conventional  estimate  of  a  gentleman. 
His  expulsion  made  no  great  difference  to  him.  He 
was  very  soon  a  society-man. 

When  Facilis  came  back,  his  weeping  mother 
folded  him  in  her  arms,  pressed  him  to  her  heart.  She 
forgave  him,  she  did  not  upbraid.  He  tried  to  comfort 
her,  but  the  disgrace  and  anguish  weighed  upon  her 
spirits.  She  had  not  strength  to  fight  against  them. 
In  vain  he  strove  to  cheer,  to  comfort  her!  After 
struggling  on  for  a  month  or  two  she  died,  and 
Facilis,  as  he  flung  himself  upon  her  grave,  longed 
that  he  too  had  been  called  to  die  with  her.  She  was 
the  last  link  between  him  and  resolute  amendment. 
Heart-broken  with  sorrow  and  hopeless  remorse,  he 
drifted  on  his  sad  career. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  335 

XIV 

Adhaesit  pavimento  anima  mea. — Ps.  cxix.  25. 

IT  is  impossible  to  express  the  intense  shame  and 
anguish  of  Duke  Altus,  when  his  younger  son — his 
favourite,  the  beautiful  boy  of  whom  he  had  been  so 
proud — came  home  in  deep  disgrace,  as  one  who  had 
notoriously  tampered  with  the  basilisk,  and  had  thus 
prematurely  blighted  the  hopes  which  his  father  had 
entertained  of  his  future  career. 

The  Duke  was  a  man  of  a  disposition  unusually 
proud  and  acutely  sensitive— a  man  with  such  '  sensi- 
bility of  honour'  that  'he  felt  a  stain  like  a  wound.' 
What  had  happened  could  not  be  hushed  up.  Boys 
from  almost  every  noble  family  in  Porphyria  were  at 
the  Gate  School,  and  as  Altus  was  among  the  noblest 
peers  in  the  land,  the  stain  which  had  fallen  on  the 
name  of  his  son  would  be  talked  of,  or  at  least 
whispered,  throughout  the  whole  country,  and  would 
live  for  many  a  year  upon  the  lips  of  scandal.  He 
groaned  to  think  of  it.  When  Florian  came  back  in 
the  middle  of  term,  he  at  first  refused  even  to  see  him. 
He  shut  himself  up  in  his  room,  and  brooded  on  the 
blight  which  had  withered  his  passionate  affection  for 
his  son,  and  the  blot  which  had  fallen  upon  his  hitherto 
stainless  escutcheon.  All  day  long  he  fed  on  these 
desolating  thoughts,  and  lay  sleepless  through  the 
night.  Hearing  of  his  despair, -Alciphron,  the  good  old 


336  ALLEGORIES 

Mage,  came  to  the  castle,  and  insisted  on  seeing  him. 
He  was  moved  to  the  deepest  compassion  by  his 
haggard  look,  and  tried  to  comfort  his  sad  friend  with 
the  tenderest  consolations.  '  Florian  is  young,'  he 
said  ;  '  he  has  had  a  tremendous  lesson.  There  is  still 
time  for  him  to  regain  lost  ground,  and  to  grow  up  a 
good  and  useful  man.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Altus  bitterly.  '  But  this  shame  of  his 
youth  will  never  be  forgotten.  This  most  wretched 
boy  has  made  his  life  like  corn  blasted  before  it  is 
grown  up.' 

'  Send  for  him,  Duke,'  said  Alciphron  ;  '  expostulate, 
but  still  be  gentle  with  him.  Do  we  not  all  need  to  be 
forgiven  ?  ' 

'  I  cannot  see  him,'  said  Altus,  '  it  would  break  my 
heart.  The  boy's  face— for  I  saw  him  pass  under  my 
window — now  looks  to  me  as  hateful  as  it  once  was 
lovely.  Its  expression  is  quite  changed.  I  will  make 
an  effort  to  resume  my  ordinary  life.  Perhaps  a  little 
later  on  I  may  conquer  the  heart-breaking  repugnance 
with  which  he  now  inspires  me.  Meanwhile,  will  not 
you  take  him  in  hand  ?  ' 

'  I  will  do  what  little  I  can,'  he  said. 

Alciphron  sought  for  Florian,  but  was  shocked  to 
find  how  deeply  he  had  degenerated  even  in  appearance. 
The  old  man  could  do  nothing  with  him.  He  was 
sullen  and  silent,  and  professed  to  be  angry  with  his 
father  for  making  such  a  fuss  about  nothing.  The 
Mage  left  him  with  a  very  heavy  heart,  full  of  immense 
forebodings. 


THE  BASILISK   AND  THE   LEOPARD  337 

Then  followed  a  grievous  tragedy.  The  Duke  felt 
the  necessity  for  shaking  off  the  nightmare  of  misery 
which  oppressed  him,  and  he  ordered  his  horse  that 
he  might  hunt  wild  boars  in  the  forest.  But  even 
while  he  hunted,  the  recollections  which  he  felt  to  be 
unspeakable  for  sadness  overwhelmed  him.  Oblivious 
of  everything,  he  suddenly,  and  without  being  conscious 
of  it,  drove  his  spurs  deep  into  the  sides  of  his  horse. 
Wholly  unaccustomed  to  such  treatment,  the  noble 
steed  sprang  into  the  air,  and  then  started  off  at  a  wild 
gallop.  Before  Altus  could  recover  the  mastery  or 
secure  his  seat,  the  horse  suddenly  swerved  into  a  side 
path  of  the  forest  and  the  head  of  Altus  was  dashed 
with  violence  against  the  trunk  of  a  great  oak.  He 
was  hurled  to  the  ground,  and,  as  he  lay  there,  the 
hoof  of  the  flying  and  frightened  steed  kicked  him  in 
the  side.  When  his  friends  and  attendants  came  to 
rescue  him  he  was  dying.  His  thoughts  turned  upon 
his  two  boys.  He  blessed  Ardens,  but  his  last  words 
were,  f  My  Florian,  whom  I  loved  so  tenderly — Florian 
expelled  from  school  in  disgrace— oh,  misery! '  While 
they  were  carrying  him  home  amid  the  wailing  of  the 
many  who  deeply  loved  him,  the  great  Duke  died. 


Ardens  and  Florian  walked  side  by  side  as  chief 
mourners  in  the  splendid  obsequies.  Ardens  succeeded 
his  father  in  the  dukedom  and  all  its  wealth,  being 
placed  under  the  guardianship  of  Alciphron  and  of  an 

Z 


338  ALLEGORIES 

uncle  until  he  should  be  of  age.  We  need  not  follow 
his  fortunes.  He  returned  to  school  for  a  year,  then 
travelled  in  Porphyria  ;  and,  when  he  was  old  enough, 
assumed  the  managemeilt  of  his  wide  domains,  and 
took  a  part  in  the  government  of  his  country.  He 
always  looked  up  to  Alciphron  as  his  guide,  philosopher 
and  friend.  Following  his  wise  and  gentle  counsels 
he  struggled  victoriously  with  his  proud,  imperious, 
violent  temper  as  he  had  done  in  his  boyhood,  until  his 
enemy  the  leopard  was  subdued  into  a  slave.  He  grew 
up  to  be  a  great  and  honoured  ruler,  and  from  the  first 
took  a  firm  stand  on  the  marble  threshold  of  a  noble 
manhood,  prosperous  and  successful  in  most  respects, 
but  deeply  troubled  by  one  irreparable  misfortune — the 
disgrace  and  ruin  of  his  brother  Florian. 


XV 

He  that  allows  himself  in  any  sin,  or  allows  himself  an  unnatural 
dalliance  with  any  vice,  does  nothing  else  in  reality  than  entertain  an 
incubus  demon. — J.  SMITH,  Discourse  of  the  Excellency  and  Nobleness 
of  True  Religion. 

FOR  Florian  went,  alas  !  from  bad  to  worse,  and  from 
worse  to  worst.  Sullen,  humiliated,  his  vanity  stabbed 
to  the  heart,  sent  to  foreign  countries  to  complete  his 
education,  and  there  sinking  into  even  viler  vices  than 
before,  he  came  back  meaning  to  enjoy  to  the  full  the 
patrimony  left  him  by  his  father  out  of  his  great  wealth. 
But  he  illustrated  the  force  of  the  old  question, '  Whom 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  339 

have  you  ever  seen  content  with  a  single  sin  ?  '  Disso- 
lute as  he  had  now  become  in  heart  and  conversation, 
his  very  features  stamped  with  the  mark  of  the  basilisk 
and  defaced  with  the  taint  of  his  evil  life,  he  added 
drunkenness  and  gambling  to  his  other  iniquities. 
The  latter  perniciously  ruinous  vices  he  pursued  with 
almost  frantic  eagerness,  for  the  other  excitements 
which  alone  the  basilisk  could  offer  him  had  already 
begun  to  pall.  He  needed  something  to  make  him  forget 
for  what  a  nothing  less  than  nothing  he  had  sold  and 
sacrificed  what  might  have  been  the  glory  of  his  life. 
But  as  his  betting  and  gambling  became  more  and 
more  recklessly  mad,  in  that  proportion  the  wretched 
young  man  was  more  and  more  overwhelmed  with 
losses.  Sometimes,  in  the  feverish  fret  of  this  passion 
he  would  stake  a  year's  income  on  a  single  game,  and 
lose  it.  At  first,  when  he  began  to  be  reduced  to  utter 
distress,  he  used  to  appeal  to  his  grieved  but  pitying 
brother,  Duke  Ardens.  But  at  last  the  Duke  had  to 
write  and  say  to  Florian  that,  while  he  would  help 
him  to  the  half  of  his  princely  fortune  in  any 
honourable  life,  he  could  not  advance  him  one  coin 
more,  if  it  was  only  to  be  squandered  in  vice  and 
folly.  Florian  was  senseless  enough  to  resent  what 
he  stigmatised  as  '  dictation.'  He  wrote  an  insulting 
letter  to  Ardens,  refusing  ever  to  speak  to  him  again, 
repudiating  all  feeling  of  brotherhood  towards  him,  and 
denouncing  him  as  a  '  curmudgeon,  a  humbug  and 
a  skinflint,'  who  did  not  care  for  his  nearest  relation, 
nor  indeed  for  any  human  being  except  his  proud  self. 

z  2 


340  ALLEGORIES 

To  help  such  a  one,  while  he  continued  to  be  such,  was 
hopeless ;  Ardens  was  forced  to  leave  him  to  his  own 
devices. 

In  the  shipwreck  of  his  credit  and  his  character  all 
his  nominal  friends  had  deserted  him.  Trypho,  now  a 
leader  of  fashion  among  the  most  corrupt  of  the  gilded 
youths,  had  cut  him  dead  as  soon  as  he  sank  to  penury, 
and  could  only  wear  a  dingy  robe.  Trypho  persuaded 
himself  that  if  Florian  had  put  himself  more  under  his 
guidance  as  a  man  of  the  world,  the  badge  of  the 
basilisk  would  never  have  eaten  so  deeply  into  his  flesh. 

But  Florian  had,  as  Trypho  expressed  it,  played  his 
cards  badly,  and  made  an  utter  fool  of  himself.  He 
had  made  his  bed,  and  would  have  to  lie  on  it. 

The  only  schoolfellow  whom  Florian  ever  saw  in 
these  days,  in  which  he  had  sunk  into  the  bottomless 
pit  of  humiliation,  was  poor  Facilis.  Facilis,  after  the 
death  of  his  mother,  never  held  up  his  head.  He 
secretly  accused  himself  of  being  her  murderer.  He 
had  neither  strength  nor  resolution  to  take  up  arms 
against  the  sea  of  wretchedness  which  now  came  over 
him  in  flood.  Of  what  use  was  it  to  struggle  ?  What 
could  he  do  worse  than  he  had  done  in  having,  by  his 
disgrace,  hastened  the  end  of  the  mother  whom  he 
loved  more  than  all  the  world  beside?  He  was  left 
very  badly  off,  for  his  mother  had  a  pension  which  died 
with  her,  but  which  she  had  freely  spent  in  doing 
her  best  to  furnish  him  with  the  education  which 
would  fit  him  to  earn  his  own  living,  and  to  make  his 
way  in  the  world.  The  soft  nature  of  Facilis  lacked 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE    LEOPARD  341 

the  nerve  and  strenuousness  which,  in  his  altered 
circumstances,  could  alone  have  enabled  him  to  succeed. 
He  had  no  energy  to  struggle.  He  had  no  relatives 
able  to  help  him,  and  he  could  find  no  opening  for 
which  he  was  fitted.  He  did  not  sink  into  a  criminal, 
but,  in  sheer  despair,  he  fell  lower  and  lower  in  the 
social  scale.  Weakness  of  character  continued  to  be 
his  curse.  Any  acute  scoundrel  could  twist  him  round 
his  fingers.  Gradually  he  became  the  helpless  dupe  and 
prey,  though  in  no  sense  the  colleague,  of  a  gang 
of  villains  who  had  managed  to  get  hold  of  him  in 
his  lowest  misery,  and  from  whom  he  strove  in  vain 
to  set  himself  free.  With  this  hideous  confederacy 
of  scoundrels,  Florian,  in  his  misery,  had  also  become 
even  more  fatally  entangled.  They  had  him  com- 
pletely in  their  power.  They  could  hold  a  rope  round 
his  neck.  For  at  one  despairing  moment  of  anguish, 
when  his  fortunes  had  sunk  to  the  nadir,  they  had 
induced  Florian  to  forge  his  brother's  name,  and  Facilis 
had  some  cognisance  of  the  crime,  which  had  not  yet 
been  detected,  but  which  these  blackmailers  constantly 
threatened  to  reveal. 

It  was  through  them,  and  his  helplessness  in  their 
evil  hands,  that  the  final  crisis  came,  over  which  I 
shall  hurry  with  all  possible  speed. 

Both  Florian  and  Facilis  had  now  fallen  into  such 
total  ruin  as  to  have  become  denizens  of  a  common 
lodging  house  in  one  of  the  great  Porphyrian  cities. 
They  had  left  themselves  no  other  refuge.  The  only 
home  now  open  to  them  was  situated  in  one  of  those 


342  ALLEGORIES 

regions  into  which  is  swept  the  worst  coagulated  scum 
of  human  misery  and  vileness.  The  dirt,  the  ugliness, 
the  blackguardism  around  them  were  unutterably 
nauseous  to  them  both,  but  especially  to  Florian,  who 
had  once  lived  in  king's  houses,  a  beautiful  and  noble 
boy.  Yet  what  deliverance  was  possible  to  one  who, 
like  himself,  had  sunk  among  the  rags  and  swine  ? 
One  day  the  great  painter  who  had  painted  him  when 
he  was  a  boy  because  of  his  consummate  beauty,  had 
been  directed  to  visit  the  low  and  squalid  alley  in  which 
Florian  now  lived,  in  search  of  some  model  who  would 
illustrate  the  uttermost  depths  of  human  misery.  He 
had  chosen  Florian,  wholly  ignorant  who  he  was,  or 
that  he  had  ever  seen  him  before.  The  sum  which  he 
paid  him  to  sit  as  his  model  was  now  an  object  of 
importance  to  the  thrice-degraded  victim  of  the 
basilisk.  The  painter's  subject  was  a  miserable 
wretch,  struggling  in  the  crushing  folds  of  a  serpent, 
into  whose  cheek  the  serpent  had  already  fixed  his 
fangs.  When  the  picture  was  nearly  finished,  Florian, 
in  desperation,  said,  '  Do  you  not  recognise  me  ?  ' 

1  Eecognise  you,  my  poor  youth  ?  '  said  the  painter 
in  surprise  ;  '  I  never  saw  you  before.' 

'  Nay,  but  you  have  seen  me  before,  and,  what  is 
more,  you  have  painted  me.' 

'  Painted  you  ?     Impossible  !  ' 

1  Look  at  me  again.' 

A  faint  gleam  of  recollection,  which  he  could  not 
identify,  seemed  to  pass  through  the  painter's  mind  ; 
but  he  could  only  shake  his  head. 


THE    BASILISK  AND   THE   LEOPARD  343 

Then  Florian  rose  impatiently,  and,  taking  his 
stand  beside  a  replica  of  the  picture  which  ten  years 
before  had  enjoyed  a  boundless  popularity — the  picture 
in  which,  as  a  boy,  he  had  figured  as  an  ideal  of 
*  Happy  Boyhood  ' — he  asked,  'Am  I  so  changed  ?  ' 

Then,  indeed,  the  painter  caught  the  resemblance, 
and  could  not  suppress  a  cry  of  amazement. 

1  You,  the  young  Lord  Florian  ?  '  he  exclaimed.  '  0 
poor,  poor  fellow  !  How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven, 
0  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning  !  ' 

He  gave  Florian  ten  times  the  sum  for  which  he 
had  hired  him  as  a  model.  But  of  what  use  was  it  ? 
Before  a  month  was  over  the  young  man,  after  a 
persistent  run  of  what  he  called  '  ill  luck,'  was  abso- 
lutely penniless,  and  so  was  Facilis.  Neither  of  them 
seemed  to  have  a  single  resource  left  them  in  all  the 
world. 

Then,  when  they  felt  the  actual  gnawings  of  hunger, 
the  gang  of  villains  with  whom  they  had  got  mixed 
up  ventured  to  hint  at  a  desperate  and  most  dangerous 
expedient. 

'  Here  are  you  starving,  Florian,'  they  said  ;  'your 
brother,  Duke  Ardens,  who  hates  you,  is  ashamed  of 
you,  and  has  disowned  you,  is  rolling  in  wealth.' 

'  What  then  ?  I  would  much  rather  starve  to  death 
than  ask  him  for  any  more  money.  He  would  not  give 
it  me — curse  him — if  I  did.' 

'  He  need  not  give  it  you.  You  have  a  sort  of  right 
to  some  of  it  at  least.' 

Florian  said  nothing. 


344  ALLEGORIES 

1  Why  should  you  not  help  yourself  arid  us  to  some 
of  those  treasures  ?  ' 

'  What  ?  rob  the  house  of  my  own  brother  ?  '  said 
Florian  with  horror.  '  I  would  rather  starve  by 
inches.' 

1  It  is  not  half  so  bad  as  forgery,'  said  the 
scoundrel  significantly. 

'  I  would  rather  starve  by  inches/  repeated  Florian 
with  dogged  misery. 

1  It  is  not  a  mere  matter  of  starving.  You  are,  as 
all  the  world  knows,  a  votary  of  the  basilisk.' 

'  Curse  the  basilisk  !  '  said  Florian  fiercely.  '  Oh  ! 
oh  !  '  he  cried,  for  just  then  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the 
monster  had  struck  him  and  hissed  out,  '  Slave,  do  you 
vilify  your  lord  ?  ' 

'  The  castle  abounds,'  continued  the  leader  of  the 
gang,  '  in  treasures  of  gold  and  silver.  The  Duke 
scarcely  ever  sees  them,  or  uses  them  ;  they  only  come 
out  at  some  state  banquet,  once  in  five  years.  He 
would  not  miss  them  in  the  least.  Don't  call  it  robbery. 
You  have  a  sort  of  right  to  some  of  them  at  any  rate. 
Even  one  gold  cup  or  plate  might  save  you  from 
dying  of  hunger,  and  would  get  you  enough  money  to 
escape  from  this  hell ;  and  perhaps,'  he  added,  with 
a  sardonic  laugh,  *  to  begin  a  new  life.' 

'  Don't  listen  to  the  fellow,  Florian,'  exclaimed 
Facilis,  wringing  his  thin  and  wasted  hands.  '  And 
never  mind  his  sneer  about  beginning  again.  It  may 
yet  be  possible.  It  is  never  too  late  to  mend.  And  oh ! 
if  one  had  but  a  chance !  If  one  had  but  a  chance  !  ' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAKB  345 

Florian  listened  in  speechless  gloom.  '  A  new  life  ! ' 
he  murmured  in  hollow  tones.  '  What  folly  !  There 
may  be  hope  for  you,  Facilis ;  there  is  none  for  me.' 

'  What  hope  is  there  for  either  of  us  ?  '  said  Facilis, 
with  a  despairing  wave  of  his  hand.  '  Nothing  could 
be  worse,  nothing  half  so  bad  as  this.' 

'  Then  shall  I  do  what  they  suggest  ?  It  would  be 
quite  easy.  I  know  the  castle  well ;  I  know  where  the 
keys  are  kept.  We  are  starving  ;  we  have  no  chance ; 
we  can't  sink  lower  ;  we  might  escape.' 

'  Far  better  die  on  the  spot,'  said  Facilis. 

'  All  very  well,'  sneered  the  captain  of  the  black 
gang.  'But  it  isn't  a  question  of  dying,  you  poor 
Facilis.  We  have  this  fellow  in  our  power,  and  you 
too.  It  is  a  question  of  deliverance  or  of  public  hanging, 
and  a  name  blasted  for  ever.' 

Florian  groaned  aloud. 

1  Listen,'  continued  the  man  :  '  all  we  ask  you  to  do 
is  to  guide  us  about  the  castle.  Let  us  carry  off  a  little 
of  the  gold  plate,  and  we  pledge  ourselves,  by  all  the 
gods  and  all  the  devils,  to  destroy  all  that  gives  us  a 
hold  on  both  of  you,  and  to  let  you  leave  the  country 
together  with  enough  to  live  on.  We  will  all  swear  it. 
Now  I  shall  leave  you  to  talk  it  over  with  Facilis.' 


When  the  wretch  had  gone  there  was  silence,  till 
at  last  Florian,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  head  on 
the  table,  said,  '  I  met  that  execrable  Trypho  to-day, 
Facilis.  He  knew  me  quite  well ;  gave  me  a^  con- 


346  ALLEGOEIES 

tumelious  stare,  and  cut  me  dead.  Ah,  Facilis,  when 
first  I  went  to  the  Gate  School,  a  happy,  innocent  boy, 
the  darling  and  idol  of  my  father  ' — he  paused,  and 
could  not  go  on — '  it  was  Trypho  who  nattered  me, 
and  could  not  make  too  much  of  me.  And  now 

'  It  was  the  same  with  me,'  said  Facilis. 

'  There  is  no  such  thing  in  the  world  as  truth  and 
justice,'  said  Florian,  '  or  Trypho  would  be  .worse  off 
than  we  are.' 

'  I  don't  know,'  said  Facilis.  *  In  better  days  I  read 
somewhere  that  the  worst  of  punishments  is  to  be  left 
unpunished.' 

'•  Yes,  and  the  proverb  says,  Dio  nonpaga  il  Sabbato  ; 
but  it  is  too  late  for  us  to  moralise,  Facilis.' 
,'•. 'So  I  think,'  said  Facilis  despairingly.  'Oh, 
Florian,  we  are  starving.  I  know  quite  well  that  one 
or  two  of  the  useless  gold  cups  or  salvers  of  Ardens, 
once  in  the  melting-pot,  would  enable  us  to  escape  to 
another  country,  to  begin  a  new  life.  And  if  that  were 
possible  I  feel  as  if  I  could  turn  day  labourer  and  once 
more  be  an  honest,  if  not  a  happy  man.  And  yet  I 
say  to  you  don't,  don't,  don't  do  it ;  and  I  say  it  to 
you,  even  if  you  feel  as  half -mad  with  hunger  as  I  do 
at  this  moment.' 

'  We  are  in  the  power  of  these  accursed  wretches, 
Facilis.  This  is  but  a  last  dreadful  and  desperate 
chance.  What  does  anything  matter  ?  When  we 
have  reached  the  bottom  of  the  abyss  we  can  sink  no 
lower.  I  know  where  all  the  treasures  are.  They  are 
carelessly  kept.  I  know  where  the  keys  are  hung.' 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  347 

'  Don't,  don't !  Better  die,'  said  Facilis,  and  he 
rushed  out  of  the  room. 

Florian  knew  the  infamy  of  it  all.  He  did  not 
deceive  himself  by  any  sophistry  about  it,  but  feeling 
as  though  he  was  already  wallowing  in  such  a  Stygian 
marsh  of  infamy  that  no  deeper  disgrace  could  be 
possible,  he  consented  to  take  with  him  as  a  con- 
federate a  young  thief  who  was  familiar  with  all  the 
tricks  of  burglary,  and  to  relieve  some  of  the  treasure- 
stores  of  his  brother's  castle  of  their  superfluous 
wealth.  The  bad  gang  with  whom  he  had  come  to  be 
associated  in  his  wild  career  of  vice,  bound  themselves 
by  the  most  awful  oaths  that,  if  he  would  consent  to 
do  this,  he  should  be  free  of  them  for  ever. 


XVI 

A  forlorn  and  desperate  castaway. — SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  night  was  agreed  on.  It  was  very  late  and  pitch 
dark.  Not  a  light  was  visible  in  any  of  the  castle 
windows.  The  boy  thief,  guided  by  Florian,  climbed 
through  a  small  oriel  window  in  one  of  the  turrets,  and, 
creeping  noiselessly  into  the  room  where  the  re- 
spectable old  butler  slept — his  posset  had  been  drugged 
by  a  female  confederate  in  the  house — took  his  keys. 
He  let  Florian  in  by  a  postern  gate,  and  Florian  guided 
him  to  the  place  where  the  gold  was  kept.  No  special 
precaution  had  ever  been  taken  to  protect  it,  because 


348  ALLEGORIES 

the  castle  was  believed  to  be  absolutely  secure,  as  it 
had  been  for  generations. 

Ardens  happened  to  be  reading  late  at  night  in  his 
bedroom,  as  he  sometimes  did  when  anything  made 
him  sleepless.  His  sleeplessness  that  night  was  due  to 
the  fact  that,  as  he  was  undressing,  an  engraving  of 
'  Happy  Boyhood '  had  happened  to  catch  his  glance. 
He  had  stopped  to  gaze  on  the  lovely  features  of  his 
boy-brother,  and  this  had  led  him  into  a  train  of 
thoughts  so  bitter  as  to  murder  sleep. 

Suddenly,  as  he  tried  to  read,  he  thought  he  heard 
a  distant  crash  from  an  adjoining  corridor,  at  the  end 
of  which  was  the  castle  treasury.  He  was  not  mis- 
taken. Florian,  as  he  moved  about  in  nervous  hurry, 
had  knocked  down  a  box  in  which  was  a  cup  of  gold. 

The  faithful  hound  of  Ardens,  which  slept  in  the 
young  Duke's  chamber,  had  heard  the  same  noise, 
started  to  its  feet,  growled,  and  sniffed  under  the  door 
of  the  room.  Ardens  listened  intently.  Now  and  then 
he  fancied  he  heard  a  very  low  sound,  but  he  would 
have  thought  no  more  of  the  matter  had  it  not  been 
for  the  angry  restlessness  of  his  dog.  As  this  seemed 
to  be  increasing  every  moment,  he  noiselessly  opened 
the  door,  and,  taking  his  lamp,  followed  the  dog,  which 
at  once  sprang  towards  the  passage  leading  into  the 
next  corridor.  Under  this  door  he  thought  he  observed 
a  faint  glimmer  of  light,  and  no  sooner  had  he  opened 
it  than  the  hound  leapt  with  furious  barking  to  the 
treasury,  of  which  the  door  was  partly  open.  The 
light  which  had  been  in  the  room  was  extinguished  at 


THE   BASILISK   AND  THE   LEOPARD  349 

once,  but  Ardens  had  distinctly  heard  a  whisper,  and 
in  another  moment  there  was  a  scream  and  a  sound  of 
blows.  Bushing  in,  Ardens  saw  a  boy,  struggling 
violently  on  the  ground,  whom  the  dog  was  keeping 
down  in  spite  of  the  blows  which  a  man  was  raining 
upon  him.  Ardens  called  off  the  hound  and  collared 
the  boy,  who  had  been  in  the  act  of  thrusting  various 
cups  and  plates  of  gold  into  a  large  leather  bag.  Then 
he  flashed  his  light  upon  the  man  who  stood  there 
irresolute  and  terrified. 

'  Merciful  heavens ! '  he  exclaimed,  recognising 
Florian,  and  the  lamp  fell  with  a  crash  from  his 
nerveless  hand. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  bid  the  wretch  escape,  but 
it  was  too  late.  Servants,  hearing  the  noise,  had  come 
hurrying  in,  and  before  he  could  speak  or  think,  both 
the  boy  and  Florian  were  in  their  hands. 


XVII 

Who  with  repentance  is  not  satisfied 

Is  not  of  heaven  or  earth. — GEOKGE  ELIOT. 

THE  two  criminals  were  confined  in  separate  rooms, 
which  were  carefully  guarded  ;  and  with  an  aching  heart 
Duke  Ardens  retired  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  sleepless 
night  in  considering  how  to  deal  with  this  terrible 
calamity.  He  could  not  be  a  prosecutor  in  the  case  of 
his  only  brother;  yet  it  did  not  seem  right  that  an 


350  ALLEGOEIES 

attempt  so  nefarious  should  go  wholly  unpunished. 
Early  in  the  morning  he  went  first  to  the  room  of  the 
boy  culprit. 

The  miserable  lad,  when  questioned,  gave  an  outline 
of  his  past  history.  He  was  an  orphan  ;  his  father 
had  been  a  burglar,  and  had  paid  the  penalty  of  death 
on  the  scaffold.  His  mother  had  drunk  herself  into  a 
speedy  grave.  The  boy  had  for  a  time  lived  on  his 
wits,  picking  up  his  living  in  the  streets,  and  sleeping 
on  doorsteps.  Then  a  '  pal '  of  his  father's  had  taken 
him  up,  and  had  used  him  in  attempts  like  this  in  which 
he  had  been  captured. 

Had  he  never  had  any  religious  teaching  ?  Any 
instruction  in  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong  ? 

Yes ;  the  slum  which  he  haunted  had  been  visited 
by  one  who  had  tried  to  save  him.  But  what  chance 
had  '  the  likes  of  him '  of  ever  keeping  himself  from 
starvation  except  by  crime  ? 

'  If  a  chance  were  given  you,'  said  the  Duke,  '  of 
being  saved  from  your  bad  surroundings  and  earning 
an  honest  livelihood,  would  you  take  it  ?  ' 

1  Wouldn't  I  ?  '  said  the  boy.     '  Only  try  me.' 

'  You  shall  have  the  chance,'  said  Ardens,  and  soon 
afterwards  he  took  steps  to  have  the  boy  placed  in  a 
distant  school,  where  he  met  with  stern  and  wise 
kindness,  by  which  he  was  enabled  in  after  years  to 
earn  his  living  as  an  honest  mechanic. 

After  this  conversation,  Ardens,  with  a  heart  which 
foreboded  all  calamity,  made  his  way  to  the  room  where 
Florian  was  confined. 


THE   BASILISK  AND   THE   LEOPARD  351 

On  opening  the  door  he  found  the  watchman  bending 
anxiously  over  his  brother's  bed. 

'  What  is  the  matter  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  I  don't  know,  my  Lord  Duke.  -The  young  man' 
—for  Florian  was 'unknown  to  him — '  seems  to  be  very 
ill.  He  only  began  to  be  so  ill  about  ten  minutes  ago, 
when  he  heard  your  voice  from  the  next  room.' 

Ardens  hurried  to  the  bedside,  and  the  acrid  smell 
at  once  revealed  to  him  what  had  occurred.  Florian 
had  concealed  in  his  dress  a  small  vial  of  poison,  arid 
had  just  swallowed  it.  The  vial  was  still  in  his  hand 
under  the  coverlet. 

'Haste,  haste,  to  my  physician  !  '  said  Ardens.  '  I 
will  stay  here.  It  may  not  yet  be  too  late.' 

Fortunately  the  physician  happened  to  be  in  the 
castle.  He  came  in,  and,  recognising  the  poison, 
administered  the  most  powerful  antidotes.  But  he 
said  from  the  first  that  he  feared  it  was  too  late.  He 
might  succeed  in  arresting,  but  hardly  in  preventing 
death. 

The  Duke  ordered  no  pains,  no  skill,  no  expense  to 
be  spared.  Florian  was  watched  and  nursed  day  and 
night.  Many  hours  elapsed  before  he  showed  signs  of 
consciousness,  and  Ardens  constantly  sat  by  his  bedside 
holding  the  wasted  hand. 

At  last  Florian  woke  from  his  drowsiness  and 
delirium,  and  murmured,  '  Where  am  I  ?  Is  it  not  very 
dark?' 

Ardens  signed  to  the  attendant  to  draw  up  the 
blind,  and  the  sunlight  poured  in.  Florian  looked 


352  ALLEGORIES 

round  with  a  dim  and  languid  gaze,  and  once  more 
feebly  asked,  *  Where  am  I  ?  ' 

'You  are  at  home,'  said  the  Duke. 

'  And — who — are — you  ?  '  Florian  could  scarcely 
articulate  the  words. 

'  I  am  your  brother,  Ardens.' 

He  had  hardly  spoken  the  words  when  Florian 
uttered  a  deep  moan  and  sank  into  a  long  swoon. 

When  he  recovered  Ardens,  who  was  still  holding 
his  hand,  said  in  his  gentlest  tone,  *  Be  still,  my 
brother.  All  is  forgiven.'  Ardens  thought  that  he  felt 
the  faintest  possible  pressure  from  Florian 's  hand. 

Next  day  he  seemed  much  better,  and  Ardens  said, 
'  Shall  I  read  to  you,  Florian  ?  ' 

*  If  you  are  so  kind,'  he  faintly  whispered. 

1  You  used,  in  old  days,  to  like  poetry.  Shall  I  read 
to  you  from  some  poet  ?  ' 

'Yes.' 

There  was  a  poet  of  whose  verses,  as  he  remembered, 
Florian  had  once  been  fond.  He  took  the  little  volume 
from  the  bookshelf,  and  in  a  low  voice  read  aloud.  One 
of  the  poems  told  how  a  poor  forgiven  woman  had  once 
washed  the  feet  of  Imrah  with  her  tears  and  wiped 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  It  was  as  follows  : 

She  sat  and  wept  beside  his  feet :  the  weight 
Of  sin  oppressed  her  heart,  for  all  the  blame 
And  the  poor  malice  of  the  worldly  shame 
For  her  were  past,  extinct,  and  out  of  date. 
She  would  be  melted  by  the  heat  of  love, 
By  fires  far  fiercer  than  are  blown  to  prove 
And  purge  the  silver  ore  adulterate. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  3/53 

She  sat  and  wept,  and  with  her  untressed  hair 

Still  wiped  the  feet  she  was  so  blest  to  touch  ; 

And  He  wiped  off  the  soiling  of  despair 

From  her  sweet  soul,  because  she  loved  so  much. 

I  am  a  sinner,  full  of  doubts  and  fears  ; 

Make  me  a  humble  thing  of  sighs  and  tears. 

Ardens  looked  up.  On  his  brother's  features  was 
the  agony  of  despair.  Ardens  tenderly  tried  to  console 
him,  but  Florian  could  only  murmur,  '  Lost !  lost ! 
lost !  ' 

1  Not  lost,  my  brother.  Elyon  says,  "  Thou  hast 
destroyed  thyself;  but  in  me  is  thy  help." 

Florian  seemed  to  rally  all  his  remaining  strength, 
and  said  in  a  voice  barely  audible,  '  Oh,  Ardens,  if  there 
be  any  reward  for  goodness,  may  it  be  yours  !  I  am 
dying.  I  feel  sure  that  I  have  not  one  hour  more  to 
live.  Oh,  what  an  awful  shipwreck  I  have  made  of  my 
life  !  I  threw  away  everything.  I  sinned  against  light 
and  knowledge.  I  am  utterly  undone.' 

'  He  who  made  you  can  remake  you,  Florian,'  said 
Ardens. 

'  What  lies  beyond  the  grave  for  self-blighted  lives 
I  know  not,'  said  Florian.  '  My  sins  have  been  black 
as  midnight ;  they  have  made  of  all  my  years  one  long 
misery.' 

'  That  very  misery  may  have  been  to  your  soul  as 
the  purging  flame,  dear  Florian,'  said  the  Duke. 

'  I  would  not  escape  punishment  if  I  could,'  said 
Florian.  '  I  seem  almost  to  long  for  it.  Until  I  have 
been  purified,  as  it  were,  ten  times  in  the  fire,  I  could 
not  dare  to  face  the  presence  of  my  Lord.' 

A  A 


354  ALLEGORIES 

He  sank  back  exhausted  with  his  effort,  and  for 
a  short  time  lay  motionless,  and  seemed  to  sleep. 
Then  he  whispered  very  low  : 

'  Ardens,  have  I  been  sleeping  ?  ' 

'I  think  so.' 

I  Then  it  must   have   been  in  my  sleep  that  our 
father  Altus,  whose  death  was  caused   by  shame  for 

me '     Sobs  choked  his  voice  for  a  time ;  then  he 

continued,  '  Our  father  seemed  to  me  to  come  towards 
me, '  as  though  from  heaven,  and  when  I  moaned  and 
shrank,  and  hid  my  face  from  his  expected  wrath,  he 
removed  my  hand,  and  oh !  Ardens,  I  thought  that  he 
said,  with  a  sad  smile,  "My  son,  you  are  forgiven." 
Have  you  forgiven  me,  Ardens?     What  shame,  what 
misery  I  have  caused  you,  even  from  a   boy  !     How 
vilely  ungrateful  and  infamous  I  have  been  ! ' 

I 1  have  forgiven  you,'  said  Ardens,  *  as  utterly  as  I 
myself  hope  to  be  forgiven  for  all  I  have  done  wrong.' 

1  Then,  if  father  and  you — whom  I  have  most 
shamed,  most  outraged — if  you  forgive  me,  though  I 
cannot  ever  forgive  myself — yet,  if  you  can  forgive 
me — perhaps ' 

He  could  speak  no  more.  He  had  almost  ceased  to 
breathe.  There  came  one  more  long  fluttering  breath, 
a  sort  of  gleam  seemed  to  pass  for  an  instant  across  his 
features — and  Florian  was  dead. 

Ah !  what  a  life  had  his  been  !  He  had  sold  his 
eternal  jewel  for  a  flash  of  delusive  freedom — a  delirious 
intoxication  of  wrongdoing,  followed  by  the  thickest 
mirk  of  misery.  Long  ere  he  died  he  had  seen  the 


ARDENS   WEPT   BESIDE    THE   CORPSE    OF   HIS   ONLY   BROTHER 

A  A    2 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  357 

infernal  folly  and  curse  into  which  he  had  been  seduced 
by  the  demon  of  the  basilisk.  In  those  last  hours 
he  had  felt  not  only  an  unspeakable  remorse,  but  also 
an  unspeakable  longing  to  be  other  than  he  was.  And 
as  he  lay  dead  his  features  resumed  something  of  their 
boyish  beauty.  The  painter  who  had  painted  him 
would  have  instantly  recognised  that,  changed  as  he 
was,  this  young  man  was  yet  the  boy  who  had  sat  to 
him  as  an  ideal  of  '  Happy  Boyhood.' 

Ardens  wept  alone  beside  the  corpse  of  his  only 
brother,  whose  face,  before  he  gave  himself  up  to  the 
enemy  of  Elyon,  had  been  so  lovely.  No  other  eye  was 
wet  for  him,  save  that  of  the  aged  Alciphron.  He  came 
to  console  Ardens.  He  saw  Florian  lying  on  his  bier. 
The  sinful  soul  had  disappeared  through  that  veil, 
'  dense  as  midnight,  yet  thin  as  a  spider's  web,'  which 
separates  us  from  the  realms  of  the  unknown.  Ardens 
had  told  Alciphron  about  his  death,  and  the  last  word 
which  he  had  spoken ;  and  the  sage,  uplifting  his  eyes 
and  hands  to  heaven,  had  said,  '  Perhaps — ah !  yes, 
perhaps ! ' 


358  ALLEGORIES 

XVIII 

POOE   FACILIS 

Oh,  is  it  weed,  or  fish,  or  floating  hair 
Above  the  nets  at  sea  ? — KINGSLEY. 

NOT  many  days  after  the  capture  of  Florian,  as  a  fisher- 
man was  hauling  in  his  nets  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
which  flows  through  the  great  Porphyrian  city,  his 
hand  became  entangled  in  a  mass  of  soft  fair  hair.  He 
found  that  the  net  was  being  dragged  down  by  the 
dead  body  of  a  young  man.  He  called  for  help  to  his 
partners,  and  they  laid  the  body  on  the  deck  of  the 
fishing-boat.  The  '  dank  and  dripping  weeds  '  were 
of  coarse  texture,  but  the  face  bore  on  it  the  stamp 
of  refinement  and  high  birth.  They  searched  for  any 
sign  by  which  the  corpse  could  be  identified.  There 
was  nothing  ;  but  surely  he  would  be  recognised  ;  surely 
some  must  be  grieving  for  that  lost  youth ! 

It  was  the  body  of  the  hapless  Facilis.  On  hearing 
the  rumour  that  a  burglar  had  been  captured  in  the 
Castle  of  Duke  Ardens,  he  knew  that  it  must  be 
Florian  ;  and,  in  agony  of  mind,  he  had  rushed  out  into 
the  night  from  the  low  slum  in  which  he  had  been 
forced  to  live.  He  felt  almost  wild  with  passionate 
grief.  He  charged  himself  with  having  done  harm  to 
Florian,  whom  he  loved  with  intense  affection  even 
in  his  fall.  He  was  even  unjust  to  himself  in  his  self- 
condemnation  ;  for,  in  reality,  he  had  often  tried  to  lay 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPAL'l)  359 

a  restraining  hand — weak  as  it  was — upon  the  down- 
ward course  of  his  friend.  Where  could  he  go? 
Whither  could  he  fly  ?  Aimlessly,  wildly  he  wandered 
through  the  mirky  streets.  A  thick  drizzle  of  rain  was 
falling,  and,  scantily  clad  as  he  was,  he  soon  became 
wet  through.  Anything,  anything  if  he  could  but 
escape  from  himself  !  Suddenly,  at  midnight,  he  found 
himself  on  the  river  bank.  The  thought  of  suicide 
occurred  to  him,  but  he  rejected  it  as  a  crime.  No !  he 
would  unmoor  a  boat  wrhich  he  saw  fastened  to  a  jetty, 
and  would  row  to  a  large  merchant  vessel  which  was 
lying  at  anchor,  and  would  offer  himself  as  a  common 
sailor.  If  he  were  carried  away  to  some  very  far-off 
land,  so  much  the  better  ! 

But  when  he  had  unfastened  the  boat,  he  stumbled 
from  sheer  weakness  and  want  of  food.  Unable  to 
recover  his  balance,  he  fell  into  the  rushing  and  swirling 
waves.  For  a  moment  or  two  he  buffeted  with  the 
current,  but  it  was  too  strong  for  him.  He  was  drawn 
under  the  water,  and  his  body  was  swept  to  sea  by  the 
ebbing  tide. 

A  line  in  the  public  journals  the  next  day  recorded 
that  the  body  of  an  unknown  youth,  who  was  meanly 
dressed  but  apparently  had  once  belonged  to  the  higher 
classes,  had  been  found  at  the  mouth  of  the  estuary. 
It  lay  in  the  mortuary,  and  had  not  been  recognised  by 
any  who  came  to  see  it. 

It  was  an  infinitely  sad  and  touching  fact  that 
many  a  father  and  many  a  weeping  mother  came 
fearing  to  find  that  this  unknown  corpse  was  all  that 


360  ALLEGORIES 

remained  to  them  of  some  lost  prodigal.  Many  of 
them  looked  at  the  dead  youth  very  wistfully,  and 
through  eyes  bedimmed  with  tears.  None  recognised 
him  ;  but  one  father,  after  a  Jong  gaze,  turned  to  his 
drooping  wife,  and,  pointing  to  the  beautiful  features 
on  which  the  peace  of  death  seemed  to  have  effaced 
the  stains  of  life,  he  said  :  '  I  am  sure  that  this  poor 
fellow  did  not  die  by  suicide.'  And  then  he  murmured 
to  himself  the  lines  of  the  poet — 

'  And  that  he  sinned  is  not  believable, 
For  look  upon  his  face.     But  if  he  sinned, 
The  sin  that  practice  burns  into  the  blood, 
And  not  the  one  dark  hour  which  brings  remorse, 
Shall  stamp  us  after  of  whose  fold  we  be.' 


XIX 

There  is  an  hour,  and  Justice  knows  the  date, 

For  long-enduring  majesty  to  wait ; 

That  hour  elapsed,  the  incurable  revolt 

Is  punished,  and  down  comes  the  thunder-bolt. 

COWPEK. 

AND  did  Trypho  escape? 

Hitherto  his  career  of  vice  and  dissipation  had  gone 
on  apparently  undisturbed.  He  had  been 

Left  in  God's  contempt  apart 
With  ghastly  smooth  life— dead  at  heart. 

The  basilisk,  wholly  secure  of  his  victim,  and  finding 
him  a  useful  agent  in  increasing  the  numbers  of  his 
votaries,  left  him  as  yet  untroubled  to  follow  to  the 
natural  end  the  career  he  had  chosen. 


THE    BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  361 

But  he  who  sows  the  wind  must  later,  if  not  sooner, 
reap  the  whirlwind. 

Successful  in  many  a  vile  intrigue,  Trypho  at  last 
grew  careless  from  over  confidence.  One  night  he  was 
surprised  in  the  house  of  Lord  Khodon  whose  friend  he 
had  pretended  to  be,  and  who  returned  home  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  from  a  journey.  Trypho  was  wearing 
a  mask  of  black  velvet  which  the  injured  husband  tried 
to  tear  off  his  face.  Knowing  how  serious  would  be  the 
consequences  of  his  detection,  and  having  entered  the 
house  unobserved,  Trypho  was  determined  at  all  hazards 
to  conceal  his  identity,  and  in  his  fierce  struggles,  just  as 
he  was  on  the  point  of  being  overpowered,  he  drew  a 
dagger  and  stabbed  his  rival.  The  dagger  penetrated 
Ehodon's  heart  and  he  fell  dead.  Trypho  rushed  to 
escape,  but  his  foot  tripped  and  he  was  precipitated 
down  a  flight  of  steps  and  was  seized. 

He  was  tried  for  murder.  As  he  stood  in  the 
felon's  dock  he  raised  his  eyes  to  see  the  face  of  his 
judge. 

It  was  Candidus  ! 

Candidus,  after  finishing  a  most  honourable  career 
at  the  Gate  School,  had  been  assisted  in  his  further 
studies  by  Ardens,  who  had  become  his  most  intimate 
friend.  He  had  chosen  the  career  of  the  law,  and  had 
shown  such  brilliancy,  that  with  wholly  unprecedented 
rapidity  he  had  risen  to  the  position  of  a  judge.  He 
bore  the  reputation  of  being  at  once  the  most  learned 
and  the  most  compassionate  judge  on  the  Porphyrian 
bench. 


362  ALLEGORIES 

The  trial  was  short.  The  evidence  was  decisive  and 
fatal.  The  conduct  of  Trypho,  his  treachery  to  one 
who  had  been  generally  beloved,  and  who  had  treated 
him  as  a  friend,  the  agonising  remorse  of  her  whom  he 
had  betrayed,  his  own  notoriously  evil  character,  the 
absence  of  any  particle  of  exculpatory  testimony,  decided 
his  fate.  The  jury  unanimously  brought  him  in  guilty 
of  murder,  with  no  extenuating  circumstance.  Candidus 
had  no  choice  but  to  sentence  him  to  death.  In  his 
brief  remarks  he  earnestly  and  solemnly  exhorted  the 
unhappy  criminal  so  to  use  the  few  days  which  yet 
were  left  him  as  to  make  his  peace  with  Heaven. 

Before  he  died  he  sent  for  Candidus  to  visit  him, 
confessed  the  justice  of  his  doom,  and  bewailed  the 
systematic  perversion  of  his  character.  Ardens  and 
the  good  Mage  Alciphron  also  came  to  see  him,  and 
endeavoured  with  compassionate  hearts  to  move  him  to 
repentance.  All  that  he  would  say  was,  '  My  life  has 
been  a  ghastly  and  irreparable  failure.' 

'  Irreparable  is  a  word  of  the  Purple  Island,'  said 
Alciphron  gently.  '  Elyon  knows  it  not.' 

But  Trypho  only  shook  his  head.  '  Too  late,'  he 
cried,  '  too  late  !  ' 

A  week  later  a  black  flag  was  flying  over  the  prison, 
and  a  great  bell  was  tolling,  stroke  on  stroke,  chilling 
the  hearts  of  all  who  heard  it  with  its  awful  and 
monotonous  vibrations. 

Trypho  was  led  out  of  his  prison  cell.  Ardens  and 
Alciphron  walked  on  either  side  of  him. 

He  knelt  at  the  scaffold,  and  the  axe  fell. 


THE   BASILISK   AND   THE   LEOPARD  363 

Ardens  went  home  with  a  gloom  at  his  heart  which 
seemed  too  deep  for  words.  Alciphron  knew  with 
how  many  thoughts  of  anguish  his  mind  must  be  full, 
for  Florian  was  his  brother,  Trypho  his  schoolfellow. 
But  his  kind  old  friend  gently  pressed  his  hand  and 
murmured, 

1  Trust  in  the  mercy  of  the  Merciful. 
His  mercy  endureth  for  ever,  and  beyond ! ' 


Else  I  avert  my  eyes,  nor  follow  them 
Into  that  dark,  obscure,  sequestered  place 
Where  God  unmakes  but  to  remake  the  soul, 
He  else  made  first  in  vain  —which  must  not  be. 

BKOWNING,  The  Ring  and  the  Book. 

On  the  dark  barge  were  three  shrouded  figures  ;  the 
silent  sea  was  of  more  than  midnight  blackness ;  the 
spirits  who  guided  the  barge  were  silent.  One  of  the 
three  figures  lay  prostrate  on  the  deck,  face  downwards, 
covered  from  head  to  foot  with  a  sable  pall,  and  neither 
moved  nor  spoke.  It  was  Trypho.  Kobed  also  in  black, 
and  with  his  face  bowed  upon  his  knees,  sat  Florian. 
Beside  him  knelt  another  figure — it  was  that  of  poor 
Facilis,  whose  arm  was  passed  over  Florian's  shoulder. 
As  the  awful  midnight  seemed  to  deepen,  Florian  had 
muttered  in  a  hollow  voice,  *  "  To  whom  is  reserved  the 
blackness  of  darkness  for  ever,"  and  yet,  and  yet,'  he 
added,  'just  before  Death  touched  me  with  his  icy 
finger,  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw,  or  dreamed  that  I  saw, 
the  melancholy  yet  pitying  face  of  my  father,  and  he 
said,  "  You  are  forgiven." 


364  ALLEGORIES 

'  And  I,'  said  Facilis,  '  when  the  river  waves  closed 
over  my  guilty  wretchedness,  did  not  feel  so  utterly 
beyond  all  hope.  The  darkness  which  might  be  felt, 
through  which  I  sfeemed  to  be  sinking  into  fathomless 
depths,  changed  into  a  dim  light,  and  oh,  Florian,  I  am 
quite  sure  that  I  saw  the  spirit  of  my  sweet  mother,  and 
she  laid  a  tender  hand  on  my  forehead  and  pushed  back 
the  wet  hair  which  had  fallen  over  my  eyes,  and  turned 
on  me  a  look  of  pardoning  love.' 

The  prow  of  the  dark  barge  grated  on  the  shore,  and 
one  came  on  board  and  touched  Trypho  and  baqle  him 
rise,  and  told  Florian  and  Facilis  to  follow  him.  I 
saw  them  lost  amid  a  crowd  of  shadowy  ministrants ; 
but  one  of  the  dim  figures  took  Florian  and  Facilis  by  the 
hand,  and  though  they  disappeared  into  the  darkness 
a  ray  fell  through  the  darkness  for  a  moment,  and  I 
saw  that  the  figure  was  leading  them  towards  a  hill 
which  looked  rugged  and  awful,  and  yet  at  its  summit, 
very  far  up,  the  gloom  which  enwrapped  it  seemed 
to  be  less  impenetrable,  and  there  might  even  have 
seemed  to  be  '  the  sweet  hue  of  the  oriental  sapphire.' 
I  seemed,  too,  to  hear  in  faint  far-distant  tones  the 
wailing  burden  of  a  hymn  sung  as  by  pleading  voices : 

Will  the  fruits  of  life  brought  forth, 

Pride  and  greed,  and  wealth  and  lust, 
Profit  in  the  day  of  wrath, 

When  the  dust  returns  to  dust  ? 
Evil  flower  and  thorny  fruit 

Load  the  wild  and  worthless  tree  ; 
Lo,  the  axe  is  at  the  root ! 

Miserere  Domine  !  Miserere  ! 


THE   BASILISK  AND   THE   LEOPARD 

Fair  without,  and  foul  within, 

When  the  honey'd  husks  are  reft 
From  the  bitter  sweets  of  sin, 

Bitterness  alone  is  left. 
Yet  the  wayward  soul  hath  striven 

Mostly  Hell's  ally  to  be 
In  the  strife  'twixt  Hell  arid  Heaven — 

Miserere  D own-in e  !   Miserere  Domine  ! 


365 


PRINTED    BY 

£POTTIS \VOODE    AND    CO.,    XEW-STUEKT    SQUARE 
LONDON 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall 


I.Ti 


A-40//. 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


